Before the Bough Breaks
by Kalinca62
Summary: Trouble is brewing for the Cullen clan with the war raging overseas as well as a personal battle on the home front. With threats coming at them from both sides and quickly closing in will they remain strong or crumble as the bough breaks. Sequel to 'Before the Bloodlust Begins'. Vampire/Human.
1. Prologue

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: Alright, I'm back … and so is my beta, LovinRob to continue where we left off when Before the Bloodlust Begins ended. So hold on tight … here we go!**

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**Before the Bough Breaks**

Prologue

Their footsteps echoed down the long, narrow cobblestone corridors, bouncing off the walls on both sides of the buildings as they briskly passed by. The moon was but a waning crescent – barely a sliver in the blackened winter sky. Thousands of stars, twinkling high above and far away in some distant galaxy dimly lit their way. That and the occasional light from a lamp perched in a windowsill. The hour was very late but then not all humans slept. Various maladies often kept them from their natural instinct to rest; mothers tending to their wailing babies, the elderly and infirm groaning from their unrelenting aches and pains while others moaned in pleasure as their flesh joined.

In the safety of darkness they removed the hoods from their long black cloaks. The nighttime skies effectively hid their alienness however one would not want to look at them too closely lest they find out otherwise. Bright red eyes set in luminous pale faces gave them the distinct aura of pure danger. It radiated and set them apart. They were the very same mythological creatures of stories and legends that planted fear within every child. They were vampires; immortal, cold, blood-sucking demons.

Walking two by two, a total of six altogether, they quickly passed through the open courtyard, past the large circular fountains to the entrance below the clock tower. Opening the latch of the heavy weathered, wooden doors with ease, they slipped inside the damp, dark entry. There was no need for light as their kind's vision is unhindered by darkness. But as a means of warning, the three vampires awaiting their arrival held flaming torches of fire, although their mere presence was warning enough. These particular vampires were their hosts most trusted, respected and feared.

No words were spoken as they silently guided their guests through the maze that led to the great, marbled turret. The fierce female from their welcoming party extended both her hands and pushed open the arched wooden doors. Seated in three oversized, opulent and ornate chairs, across the cavernous room were their revered rulers.

To the right of center sat Caius, his face scowling and his posture already adversarial. On the opposite end, impassive and impervious to these proceedings was Marcus. Slowly rising from his gilded throne with his hands clasped together in eager anticipation, Aro enthusiastically greeted the delegation standing before him.

"Welcome, I trust you made it here without being detected."

From Aro's tone it was more a warning than a salutation or a question. Without waiting for a response, he quickly turned and smoothly addressed his minions.

"That will be all Jane and Alec. Thank you. Please see to it that we are not disturbed … under any circumstances."

"Yes, master." Jane spun around and led her brother, Alec out of the great room, closing the massive doors behind them.

Felix remained and took his position beside Marcus while his fellow guardsman, Demetri stood by Caius. Blending into the background was Aro's always present and inauspicious personal guard, Renata, holding his robe. Should anyone have the misfortune of deciding to attack her charge, they would find themselves disoriented and unable to remember their intent before Felix and Demetri disposed of them - permanently.

Heinrich, the self-appointed leader of the delegation, stepped forward and removed his robe, letting it fall to the ground. With his short-cropped blonde hair slicked back and wearing the uniform of a high-ranking German military officer beneath, he carried himself with an air of superiority and arrogance; something best left checked at the door. His comrades quickly followed suit and removed their robes. Assembled was Mamoru representing Japan, Vincenzo from Italy, Sergei from Russia, Faulker from the United Kingdom and the newest member, Hubert from the United States of America. All clad in their country's uniforms, the six saluted Aro, Marcus and Caius before their arms dropped to their sides.

"Your Excellency, rest assured we took every precaution. We were not followed," Henrich declared with confidence. "We were cloaked in night's cover."

"Very good," Aro crisply replied.

Gesturing for Marcus and Caius to rise and follow him, Aro spun around and led his guard and representative delegation across the room to the life-sized oil painting of the three Volturi leaders and abruptly stopped. With the snap of his fingers, the painting swung forward to reveal a steel vaulted portal. Trusting no one with the combination, Aro's own fingers swiftly entered the code that unlocked the door.

Once inside the hidden chamber, the guard quickly lit the torchiere candles. They emitted an ominous glow within the small amphitheatre. In the center of the room was a large circular table, so large that it nearly consumed the entire room. Underneath the glass tabletop was an oversized map of the world. Strewn across the map of blue oceans were miniature replicas of battle ships. Strategically placed over the many continents were tiny soldiers, each color-coded according to country. A dozen high-back chairs surrounded the table. Framed and hung along the perimeter of the walls were photographs of Aro with his arm slung around the shoulders of prominent world leaders ... _human_ world leaders. Quickly taking their seats, Aro remained standing at the front of the table holding onto a long, thin metal rod with a flat end.

"I trust much has transpired since our meeting last month," Aro practically cooed, unable to mask his child-like excitement. "Henrich, you first, bring me up to date."

"Our German U-boats have moved in position off the coast of the United States where we can better monitor their growing involvement in the war." Henrich watches transfixed as Aro pushes his stick, moving several ship pieces along the eastern coast of North America.

"Deportation from the Jewish Lodz ghetto to Chelmno Concentration Camp has begun and Rommel captured Agedabia before settling in Benghazi, Libya …" Henrich gazes up catching the enthusiastic approval written on Aro's face.

He pauses knowing that Aro won't be pleased with his next bit of information. After moving his pieces on the map, Aro moves directly in front of Henrich and extends his hand.

"Oh my dear Henrich, you are among friends. You know that you can tell me anything, don't you? What is it that you are keeping from me?" Suddenly he clasps hold of Henrich's hand in his and closes his eyes, concentrating as he listens to his every thought.

Aro's brow furrows and his mouth sets into a grim, thin line upon learning that the Führer has withdrawn his troops and blames the weather for their offensive failure in claiming a strong-hold inside the Soviet Union. Dropping Henrich's hand he strikes the tiny soldiers from the Soviet border with his stick sending the pieces flying everywhere.

Caius smirks at Aro's sudden outburst. "It appears that Vladimir and Stefan may have won this round."

Aro immediately straightens and composes himself. "This game is far from over Caius – oh no, not by a long-shot."

A slow smile spreads across his face as Aro sets his sights on Mamoru who nervously swallows. "And what tidings have you brought me?"

~BtBB~

He shouldn't have gone so long without feeding. The outcome was always the same. No matter how many times he'd try to convince himself that by doing so, he'd feel better about what and who he was, it never did. Depriving himself of human blood for long periods of time until he felt weak and powerless to abstain, made it that much more difficult for him afterwards when faced with the evidence of his failure. It was a lesson in futility, one that left him continually frustrated and filled with self-loathing.

He wished he could simply close his eyes to his prey's terrified faces when sinking his razor sharp teeth into their soft flesh and piercing their pulsing jugular vein. He wished he could find a way to disconnect himself from experiencing their virulent emotions when they faced their imminent mortality. Perhaps then, he'd be like others of his kind and not feel anything at all except blissful, peaceful nothingness. Maybe then the thick delectable nectar coating the back of this throat would taste sweeter, be more satisfying. Eight decades and thousands of human lives later, it still pained him each and every time.

But it was almost over. As he siphoned the last remaining drops of blood from the man lying in his arms, he felt his heartbeat slow and become erratic. His victim's paralyzing fear that only moments earlier caused him so much agony was slowly evaporating bringing him welcomed relief.

_Thump - thump - - thump - - - thump - __

Respectfully he lowered the corpse to the ground and peered over his shoulder. His companions were still ravenously feeding. His hunger flared again. There was one human left – a young woman huddled on the ground in front of the campfire silently praying. Purposefully moving slowly, he approached her and lowered himself to her level. Brushing the hair away from her tear-stained face with his fingertips, he spoke gently to her.

"Não tenha medo. A morte vem a todo o mundo. Eu prometo o seu ser rápido e misericordioso," he whispered softly in her ear.

"Agradeça-o mau demônio," she replied and shivered as he brushed his lips over her neck and bared his teeth.

True to his word, Jasper finished quickly. When he was done feeding he could feel his strength returning. Quickly he scaled the steep rocky cliff and rejoined the others who had finished their meals and were sitting on its ledge. There he found his companions, Peter and Charlotte, who he'd been traveling with for the past year and a half since they'd made their escape from their maker, Maria.

Also present were the male and female they'd recently crossed paths with as they journeyed north through South America. Even though the male offered friendship, Jasper didn't trust him. But then again, Jasper didn't trust anyone. Maybe it was the wild look in the male's shifty eyes or perhaps it was his arrogant demeanor but Jasper felt there was definitely something queer about him. And his mate, Victoria, didn't make him feel any better. Instinctively, Jasper knew that James was a tracker and from observing him in action these past few days, he was certain that James was the best he'd ever known. Initially Jasper believed James and Victoria had been sent by Maria to deal with her offspring's defections but quickly learned that James worked for no one but James.

Leaning back against the smooth rock wall with his eyes tightly shut, James tries reasoning with the gifted vampire once again. "Jasper, I don't understand why you and your companions won't reconsider joining forces with us. With my tracking skills and your uncanny ability to control the emotions of both human and vampires alike, we could easily take possession of the entire southern region."

"By joining forces, what you really mean is we'd be under your control and leadership?" Jasper snickers. "No thanks James. I've spent the majority of my existence under someone else's authority. I've come to cherish my independence."

"Besides we're headed north," Charlotte adds.

"We've had enough of the south's petty feuding wars over feeding territories." In a protective move, Peter wedges himself in the small space between his mate and James.

James lets out a hearty laugh. "Let me see if I have this straight. You do not wish to join forces because you believe I will attempt to dominate and oppress you. And you are under the assumption that your lives in the north will be less complicated, more or less. Do I have that right?"

One at a time James looks them straight in the eye and slowly shakes his head.

"Oh my dear friends, how mistaken you are!" His laughter intensifies as Victoria joins in. "It's far easier to fly under the radar deep within the rain forests of Brazil than the streets of Chicago, where I originate from. The warlords of the south are clowns in a circus compared to those who rule the north."

"We're not afraid of the Volturi," Peter proclaims boldly.

"Well you should be," James snickers. "It is the Volturi who will dominate and oppress you before demanding your loyalty and allegiance. You would have far more freedom if you stayed here with us."

"We've heard rumors that there are others of our kind in the north who have found a more meaningful and compassionate way to exist." Charlotte clasps her hands as if in prayer.

"Lies … it's nothing but lies," James says with disdain, rising to his feet. "We're vampires not fucking angels. Go north … but don't say I didn't warn you." He reaches for Victoria's hand and pulls her to his side.

"Why don't you come north with us?" Jasper asks, surprising both himself and his two companions. "What do you have to lose?"

Immediately he regrets his offer but reasons that if he's read him correctly James won't want to be part of any coven where he isn't in charge.

A smile spreads across James face, as this is what he'd been hoping for all along. He slides his hand inside his jacket tracing the outline of the frayed newspaper article he'd ripped out of the Chicago Tribune months ago. Another game piece falls neatly into place.

"I suppose we could … we have all the time in the world and you need me," James voice trails off as he pretends to consider Jasper's offer. "And I do have some unfinished business to attend to."

Victoria grins triumphantly at her mate. "Finally it begins," she mutters under her breath and squeezes James hand in eager anticipation.

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**A/N: So what are your thoughts? Do you have any idea where I'm going with this sequel? Sneaky, aren't I? Well for now I'm just setting my players on this big old board game and throwing the dice. Next move is yours. Feel free to leave me your thoughts and comments.**

**Soon I will begin posting regularly … this was to wet your appetite (pun intended). **

**This is what Jasper said to the young woman in Portuguese before he fed, "Don't be afraid. Death comes to everyone. I promise yours will be quick and merciful."**

**The young woman responded, "Thank you evil demon."**


	2. Chapter One

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: ****Twilight's author, Stephanie Meyers gave us some amazing characters to play with, both human and vampire. She did a fantastic job creating her own vampire lore. And while I've tried to remain faithful to her vision, I have to admit that I've taken some liberties here and there and tweaked them a bit in both Before the Bloodlust Begins and now in it's sequel, Before the Bough Breaks. Once again I've put my thoughts to ink and blended SM's story with my own. ~BtBB~ takes place in another period in time. I have taken some liberties with this era and also with names and places blending some history with fiction. If you are not a die-hard Twilight purist and can keep an open mind, I welcome you. But if you expect me to tow the line and not deviate, do us both a favor and move on. **

**We're picking up where 'Before the Bloodlust Begins' epilogue ended. If you haven't read it yet, STOP NOW!**

**This chapter contains spoilers. **

**My Beta T, LovinRob is solely responsible for this sequel as I was on the fence whether to write it or not and she pushed me off the ledge. Thanks bb, I think …**

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Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Chapter One

A warm breeze is softly blowing the scent of spring in the air. The sweet fragrance of potted daffodils, azaleas and hyacinths being sold by area vendors is discernible if one actually took time to stop and smell them, even in the heart of downtown Chicago. Each day humans walk right past the beautiful flowers and barely notice them. But then humans rarely pay close attention to anything unless it's put directly in front of them. So preoccupied with performing their potpourri of menial tasks, they often go through their lives overlooking and taking the simplest things for granted.

By comparison the nature of a vampire compels them to heed even the most minutiae of details. Every smell is heightened and magnified ten-fold as are the other primary senses; vision, hearing, taste and touch. Based on the combination of human inattentiveness and sensory inferiority the six vampires standing in line waiting to enter the popular nightspot, The Aragon Ballroom, are able to blend in amongst them undetected. Well, almost undetected. The vampire's close proximity does cause them some discomfort although they don't know precisely why that is. Perhaps if their primitive human brains were better attuned to that indefinable sixth sense, the one that they regularly dismiss, that little voice that whispers 'something is not quite right' and causes the small hairs on the back of their neck's to rise, they would keep further distance from the mortal danger in their midst. But as with the flowers, they pay little attention.

On this particular Saturday night the line to get inside the nightclub is especially long. It wraps around the entire block. There are several reasons for the large turnout besides the nice weather. One being that the immensely popular, Glenn Miller Orchestra is scheduled to perform. This reason alone practically draws out every young person in a fifty-mile radius. Another is the countless young men, who having received their draft orders, are there to enjoy one last night out on the town with their favorite girls before being shipped off to boot camp. Young men and women, dressed in their best, stand in pairs and in small groups excitedly chatting amongst themselves while patiently waiting for the doors to open and the evening festivities to commence.

Standing near the front entrance are Carlisle and Esme, their youthful appearance deceiving. Esme casts a stunning image dressed stylishly in a below the knee, sleeveless, form-fitting mauve cocktail dress. A white fox fur stole covering her shoulders and open-toe wedge heels complete her ensemble. By her side is her very handsome mate, Carlisle, impeccably dressed in a pin-stripped dark brown double-breasted suit. Catching his reflection in the window across the street, he examines his hair before smiling and tipping his fedora hat forward. Always clean-shaven, the thick-rimmed glasses that are part of Carlisle's 'costume' rest on the bridge of his nose.

_This is a marked improvement over that silly wig. _

After submitting to hours of experimentation with various hair dyes, his signature blonde hair is now a deep auburn brown. Just how long it will stay this color, he couldn't say as permanent changes for his kind, whether they be physical, or personality traits were extremely rare. Even now Carlisle's body remains forever encapsulated … frozen at the tender age of twenty-three, just as he was when he had been bitten by an immortal over two hundred and seventy years ago.

_At least no one will recognize me. Hell, I barely recognize me. But then who would in this young crowd. It's been well over twenty years since I practiced medicine at Memorial Hospital. The vast majority of these young people hadn't even been born yet. I'm confident that this will work._

"It will, Carlisle," Edward responds firmly to his 'father's' unspoken thoughts. "It has to."

_Yes but you need to start addressing me by my alias … Oliver Fawkes. There are some who still may remember Carlisle Cullen._

Carlisle turns around to take a closer look at his eldest 'son' standing behind him. Having refused to submit to the grueling hair dye process in order to lose his trademark bronze hair, Edward discovered that dark brown shoe polish worked just as well. With bonding glue, the kind one would use to repair a broken ceramic vase, Edward's thin mustache, goatee and sideburns were securely in place. The glue seemed to work better than the spirit gum they had previously tried. Stylishly attired, Edward sports narrow navy trousers that hang low on his hips with a matching double-breasted jacket and crisp white linen shirt. Even under disguise he was extraordinarily handsome.

_Yes Edward … Henry. This is going to take some getting used to. You no longer resemble Edward Masen. And Bella or should I say, Adele, hardly looks like Isabella Swan either. Although I wish she had let me try dying her hair rather than insisting on wearing the blonde wig. Women tend to notice the details of other women's appearances more so than men do. _

Both turned their gaze appreciatively towards Bella who is talking to Rosalie. The pompadour-styled platinum blonde wig she is wearing effectively hides her long chestnut brown locks underneath. Her sparkling silver satin dress is clinging to her shapely petite figure. Wearing her last pair of silk stockings over her long shapely legs, the five-inch stiletto heels give her the height and appearance of a runway model. Standing beside Bella is the impossibly beautiful Rosalie in a tight-fitted little black dress that rests just above her knee and is emphasizing all of her considerable assets. In spite of Rose's drop-dead gorgeousness, Bella easily holds her own. Bella is a siren call … Aphrodite in the flesh. Both she and Rose are extremely attractive to their natural prey and the human males who are standing in line frequently find themselves inexplicably staring in their direction, unable to control their lustful thoughts. For that matter so are their female companions except, they are positively green with envy.

Emmett casts an ominous glare at anyone who dares to blatantly check out his mate, although he doesn't exactly blame them. In his opinion there is no one lovelier than his Rose. And he is fairly confident that these men really wouldn't want to know her up close and personal. Nonetheless to pass the time waiting in line he is enjoying toying with them, making them squirm and turn away whenever their eyes meet his icy cold ones. It makes him smile … and thirsty. Venom starts pooling inside his mouth. Even after almost a decade with Carlisle, controlling his natural desire for human blood remains a daily struggle for him and on occasion he has been known to backslide much to his 'family's' chagrin. This usually results in their having to pick up and relocate pronto.

"Emmett!" Edward's steely voice snaps Emmett out of his blood-lust train of thought. "Behave," he warns.

"I'm fine," he lies. _You think you are so smart and know everything there is to know about me but there are areas so deep inside my mind that not even you can penetrate them._

Edward grins. "Not so brother, your mind is an open book with absolutely no filter. Do you honestly believe I enjoy listening to your inane banter?"

In a voice so low it's imperceptible to the human ear, Edward glances over at the young men Emmett had been toying with and mouths his earlier thoughts, _'I want them to shit in their pants' _

_That may have been my thought on the surface brother but what does it really mean? Dig deeper. I dare you. _Emmett challenges Edward, letting out a hearty laugh but is uncertain whether he actually does have deeper thoughts.

"Must everything come down to the trauma of your childhood and your mother waiting until you were five years old to potty train you?" Edward says in a much louder voice than necessary causing all eyes within a ten-foot radius to look their way.

Edward knows that it is wrong of him to have fabricated this lie but reasons that his brother makes it far too easy and basically sets himself up. Emmett uncomfortably shuffles his feet and worries whether Edward actually hit the nail on the head or if he is messing with him again.

"Very funny Edward," he chuckles and to save face he shoots another round of lethal stares in all directions. _Get out of my head. _

"Gladly," Edward mutters. "Just behave yourself and remember that I am Henry, Bella is Adele and Carlisle is Oliver. Do you think you can handle that?"

_Not a problem. _

To try and distract his wayward thoughts, Emmett places his hands on Rose's shapely bottom and slowly caresses each cheek. He feels another more familiar stirring deep within. _There has got to be some place inside where I can be alone with her for a few minutes. _

"Seriously Emmett, if it isn't one weakness, it's the other," Edward snickers.

"Listen Edward … Henry … whoever the hell you are, lay off of Emmett," Rose growls. "I happen to like his weakness." Moving so her backside is against Emmett's front, she discreetly reaches behind and squeezes and massages his manhood.

_Oh yeah baby … _

"Maybe you two should go back to the apartment," Bella intervenes. "I don't understand why you two can't keep your hands off of each other even for a few hours."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Rose says indignantly. "With that gymnasium you call your bedroom, you and Edward are ten times worse than me and Emmett."

Esme wisely steps in between her girls who always seem to be at each other's throats about something to try and keep the peace. "Rose darling, I'm sure Bella … Adele that is, didn't mean anything by it. Isn't that right Adele? Let's not spoil this wonderful night for her and Edward … Oh damn! I meant to say Henry, all right?"

"Hrrmmp …" Turning her back to Bella, Rose mumbles, "She always takes her side."

Bella sighs heavily and turns her attention towards the two very large men who have stepped outside the building and are steering the crowd away from its doors. They quickly set up the metal guideposts to form two single lines into the club. Gesturing for those in front to start moving forward, they take their tickets as they pass through.

Soon the six vampires are seated off towards the back of the expansive, elegant room at a round table large enough for twelve. All six sets of eyes are scanning the perimeter hoping to catch sight of Edward and Bella's grown twins, Elena and Robert and his new wife, Kristen, as people start pouring inside. This was their sole reason for coming out this evening. It had been a week since they crashed the wedding and both Bella and Edward were anxious to see them again. It was while Edward and Carlisle were researching the U.S. Army's recruiting command center that they learned of Robert's date to report for duty. They surmised that a big send off in the form of a night out on the town would most likely be in order before Robert officially left civilian life and they took a gamble that it would be here at the hottest ticket in town.

~BtBB~

Earlier in the week …

The skies are heavily overcast and are threatening rain. As Carlisle drives to Fort Sheridan located on the outskirts of Chicago, Edward sits beside him in relative silence. Neither felt much like talking and Edward is mindful not to listen in on his father's private thoughts. He had plenty of his own to keep him occupied. The package of documents they had been waiting for from J. Jenks and Associates had finally arrived earlier that morning. He and Carlisle are to report to the Army command center and finish the process that, by the end of the day, would have them both enrolled as officers.

"I don't know how Jenk's son, Junior was able to pull this off," Edward says, effectively breaking the quiet. "He must have friends in very high places."

Carlisle shrugs non-committal. "It's simple. I pay him very well. The documents are authentic; the social security cards, the birth certificates, my medical and drivers licenses … all are legitimate."

"Won't they question your British accent, Carlisle?" Edward opens the manila envelope and examines each document.

"Take a look at my birth certificate," Carlisle knowingly smiles. "It officially states that I, Oliver Fawkes, was born on October 10, 1917 in Bedford, Indiana to my American mother and her British husband. I'll simply explain that my family moved to London before I could walk and that we lived there until I turned eighteen when we moved back to the States so that I could attend college and medical school."

"It has a raised seal and everything," Edward comments, duly impressed. He then removes his own birth certificate and reads it out loud. "Henry Thomas Myers, born May 13, 1920 in Chicago, Illinois. Do you really think I can pass for twenty-two?"

"Granted it's a stretch but in order to be an officer and in Robert's regiment you'll have to have graduated college." At the traffic light, Carlisle signals to turn left into Fort Sheridan. "This is where he will be doing his basic training and thanks to Jenks Jr., so now shall we."

"Are you certain Junior was able to arrange the most important barrier to our enlistment?" Edward questions while looking out his window at the long line of paired soldiers running in synchrony along the roadway.

"Yes," Carlisle assures Edward. "Don't worry. It's all been taken care of."

Carlisle pulls his 1942 Oldsmobile into a parking spot. The two men step outside and scan the area searching for the administrative building. With ninety-four buildings clustered on six hundred and thirty-two acres, Fort Sheridan is a very large complex. They follow the signs posted along the sidewalk and are soon climbing the steps up to the third floor. After signing in, they take their seats inside the packed waiting room and patiently wait for their names to be called. They wait and wait and wait … within the first hour Carlisle has read every book and magazine in sight before turning his attention to people watching. Sitting beside him, as still as only a vampire can be is Edward. He is mindful to blink regularly and shift his position every so often so as not to draw attention to himself.

A tall and lanky young man strolls inside the waiting room and parks himself on the only available seat, the one next to Carlisle. Nervously he sits, biting his fingernails and sporadically engaging in fits of coughing. The physician inside of him can't help but say something.

"Have you had that cough checked out?" He asks with genuine concern. "I'm a doctor – Dr. Oliver Fawkes."

_Poor guy … stuck with that shitty name … 'all over fucks' Hope it doesn't stick. _

Covering his mouth with his hand, Edward bowls over and disguises his laughter with his own coughing fit. Carlisle shoots him a questioning expression.

The young man appears to be duly impressed with Carlisle. "Wow. Really? You're a real bona fide doctor Ollie? I'm Calvin Donovan but everyone calls me Cal." He offers his hand for Carlisle to shake. "Our family doctor who is as older than sin says it's just a nervous habit, nothing to be concerned about."

_I don't trust that old fuck. I'm probably dying ... Damn, Ollie has cold hands!_

His brow raised, Carlisle sighs when Cal visibly winces at his touch. "This is my cousin, Henry."

Composing himself, Edward nods, "Nice to meet you Cal."

"Same here Henry," Cal replies before another fit of coughing ensues.

An attractive young woman holding a clipboard steps inside and in a crisp voice calls out, "Myers, Henry." The expression on her face when she spots Edward is priceless.

_Oh dear Lord … he is absolutely gorgeous … please don't be married ... please don't be married!_

Edward chuckles and flashes her one of his dazzling smiles. In his presence, the poor woman is rendered momentarily speechless. Unable to find her voice, she gestures for him to take a seat in the chair in front of her desk and slithers into hers. Disconcerted by his close proximity, she fumbles through her folder checking the routine paperwork inside to be certain that everything is in order.

_Darn it! He is married … why are all the good ones always taken? Maybe he has a brother? Hmm …_

"Is everything alright Miss?" Stretching his neck over her desk so he can better see what she is doing, he finds her looking up at him intently … strangely even. "Is everything in order?"

_Is she suspicious of my cover or does she sense my alienness? _

"Miss Reynolds … and yes, Mr. Myers, it appears everything is … oh, wait." Flipping back to the first page she carefully examines each piece of paper again. "The checklist indicates that you've already had your physical. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I have." _I knew it … oh shit! Junior screwed up. _"Isn't it in there?"

Closing the file, she slowly shakes her head. "I'm sorry Mr. Myers …" _I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him?_

_I don't think you really want to know the answer to that. _

"Henry, please call me Henry," he flashes another of his heart-stopping smiles but feels a pang of guilt when she sucks in her breath, appearing to be completely befuddled and spellbound.

"Henry … no, the forms from your physical aren't in your file as they should be but don't worry, we can easily fix this." Picking up the phone, she quickly dials. "Hello, Dr. Morgan … this is Miss Reynolds …yes, I'm fine. Can you please do me a favor and check to see if you have Henry Myers physical report on your desk? Yes, I'll wait …"

Edward taps his fingers across the desk. He has a really bad feeling about this.

"That's too bad," she says into the hand piece. "Oh that's wonderful Dr. Morgan … okay Larry … yes, I'll send him right over. Thank you. Bye."

"Dr. Morgan has an opening now and can redo your physical." Scribbling on a notepad, she tears off the top sheet and hands it to him. "When you exit this building, his office is across the commons, second floor, room 215."

Edward swallows. "Are you positive that it isn't in my file or perhaps on your desk somewhere? Maybe I could come back another time …"

Adamantly she shakes her head. "It has to be now or you won't be able to report for duty on Sunday afternoon. I'm sorry Henry." _I'd be happy to examine you personally if you'd rather not see the doctor. _

Slowly rising from his chair, he exhales and follows her to the waiting room entrance. He scans the room frantically looking for Carlisle but he is no longer there.

"Donovan, Calvin." Miss Reynolds calls out.

Panic setting in, Edward grabs Cal's upper arm as he walks by. "Did you happen to see where my cousin went?"

Cal shrugs. "They called Ollie a few minutes ago but I don't know where they took him. Don't worry Henry, I'm sure he'll turn up eventually." _And people think I'm a nervous Nellie. _

Releasing Cal's arm, Edward frowns. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Sorry."

_What do I do now? Maybe I can fast-talk my way out of having to do the physical. _

Edward tentatively knocks on door number 215. Thirty seconds pass and he is about to turn around and leave when the door suddenly swings open. An older man in a white lab coat towers over him.

"Are you Dr. Morgan?" Edward asks.

"Yes and you must be Henry Myers. I can't tell you how many times I've had to redo someone's physical because their paperwork mysteriously got lost," he says clearly annoyed. "Come in. This shouldn't take very long."

"Couldn't you just fill out the form without having to actually do the physical again? It seems like such a waste of your valuable time," Edward stammers.

Dr. Morgan scrunches his eyebrows together and stares at Edward as if he has lost his marbles. Scratching his chin, he slowly shakes his head and starts to laugh.

"Son, don't tell me a strapping young man such as yourself is afraid of a little needle?"

"Needle?" _Oh no, no, no! _"Why yes um … I have a phobia of needles and often pass out at the very sight of them."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of … happens all the time. I assure you it'll be fairly painless. I only need two vials of your blood and a urine sample." He hands Edward a small paper cup and points to the door. "The bathroom is across the hall."

Edward walks into the men's room and stares blankly at the urinal. _Think Edward … _Suddenly, a young man with bright red hair rushes past him and hurriedly unzips his pants. In his other hand he holds a small paper cup.

An idea quickly takes form in Edward's head. "Excuse me but would you mind peeing into this cup for me as well. "I'm bone dry and want to get the hell out of here."

"Not a problem pal. I have to piss like a racehorse. But would you mind turning around," he chuckles. "Don't want you ogling my Johnson."

Careful not to spill the warm cup of urine in his hand, Edward reenters Dr. Morgan's office and places it on top of his desk. "Here it is."

"You didn't have to fill it to the top," the doctor laughs. "Now take off your shirt and drop your pants." With his head held low, he is too preoccupied writing down his notes to notice Edward vacillating with indecision.

"When you're done go stand on the scale. I'm going to take your height and weight," Dr. Morgan orders putting down his pen.

Stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, Edward does as he's told. The doctor lifts the measuring ruler and rests it on top of his head. "6' 2" tall and 169 lbs. You are a fine specimen Henry … all muscle and not an ounce of flab."

"Have a seat on the examining table," he off-handedly says while writing down the results of Edward's height and weight stats. "I'm going to get a blood pressure reading and then take a blood sample."

_Oh fuck! Now what Sherlock? _

Seeming to come out of nowhere a nurse rushes inside, wide-eyed and in a state of panic. At the sight of an indecent Edward, she coyly averts her gaze and a small smile spreads across her face.

"Dr. Morgan, please come quick. That red headed boy just collapsed after I finished drawing his blood."

Fast on the nurse's heels, Dr. Morgan turns around and says to Edward, "Stay here, I'll send someone else in to get your blood sample and finish the exam."

Once they have left Edward doesn't waste a single second and peers up and down the hallway. It is empty except for a cart filled with various medical supplies including a tray of drawn blood vials outside the next office. _Thank you Lord!_ He takes a cautious step outside and quickly takes two filled blood vials from the tray. Opening two empty vials, he pours the blood into them and with a pen he jots down his name before returning them to the tray.

Back inside the doctor's office he finds the physical form and writes down under blood pressure, 118/70 and answers the slew of medical history questions. Dressing fast, he exits at vampire speed.

"Where on earth have you been?" Carlisle probes when spotting Edward outside walking briskly in his direction from the building next door. "I've been looking for you all over. Is everything alright?"

"Just peachy," he grins and says sarcastically. "Remind me to personally thank Jenks Jr. the next time I run into him. Let's get the hell out of here, Ollie."

~BtBB~

Back to their present …

Extravagantly decorated and designed in the Moorish architectural style with horseshoe-shaped arches throughout, the Aragon Ballroom's interior resembles that of a Spanish village. Easily accommodating thousands, the vast room is almost filled to capacity. Bella anxiously watches as the last remaining people trickle inside. Maybe they were wrong. After all Robert was still on his honeymoon. Perhaps he prefers a quiet, romantic evening alone with his beautiful new wife rather than a noisy, smoke-filled night of drinking and dancing. _If I had been a real mother to him, I would know his idiosyncrasies and preferences. _

Edward's hand clasps her thigh. "There they are," he excitedly says tilting his head towards the side entrance. "Quickly, come with me."

Bella slips her hand in her husbands and together they quickly maneuver through the crowd as easily as Moses' parting of the Red Sea. Slowing significantly as they reach their target, Edward purposefully bumps Robert's shoulder stopping them both in their tracks.

"I'm terribly sorry …" Edward turns and says to a startled Robert. "Well, isn't this a coincidence?" He gazes down at Bella, "Look who is here darling. It's the newlyweds."

"Robert!" Bella gasps and before either one knows what is happening, she throws her arms around her son's neck and kisses his cheek. "How are you?" she whispers in his ear.

"I'm … well," Robert stammers and gently pries Bella's arms off of him. Reaching for his wife, he pulls her to his side. "I remember you. You were at our wedding … its Adele, right? And this is your husband, Harry. Fancy meeting you two here." _Who the hell are these people anyway?_

"Hello," Kristen responds politely. _Why must every female want my man?_

"It's Henry, Henry Myers," Edward gently corrects Robert and offers his hand. "Listen, we have a table on the other side of the room. Why don't you two join us?"

Robert shakes Edward's hand and pauses with indecision turning to the entrance behind him. "I don't know … the rest of our party will be here any minute." _These two are too touchy-feely for my liking. _

"Does your table have room for six?" Kristen asks scanning the other tables around the room and finding them mostly full. "It seems we've arrived too late to get our own." _After a few drinks it won't matter who we're seated next to. _

"Yes we do!" Bella lights up and grabs hold of Kristen's arm steering her away from Robert. "We're going to have so much fun! I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

Kristen turns her head and shoots her husband a panicked expression begging him to do something. _Don't just stand there Rob! Help me!_

"Don't worry," Edward reassures Robert who is clearly suffering from a bad case of separation anxiety. "Adele is harmless, well, mostly. I'll just wait with you for the others to arrive."

* * *

**A/N: We need to sit up before we can crawl … crawl before we can stand … stand before we can walk … yada, yada yada etc… You get the point, right? We're going to take it nice and slow and let this story unfold in great, agonizing detail, just like its predecessor. LOL!**

**I'd like to give a huge shout of thanks to Amandac3 for creating the amazing banner for Before the Bough Breaks. It's a shame it can't be seen on the FanFiction website but as I also post this story on The Writer's Coffee Shop, you can check it out there. **

**I'd love to hear your comments and/or questions. **


	3. Chapter Two

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: I'll shut up and get right to it. A shout of thanks to my amazing Beta T, Lovin Rob!**

* * *

Jack Sprat could eat no fat,

His wife could eat no lean,

And so betwixt the two of them

They licked the platter clean

Chapter Two

It is with immense relief when Kristen spots Henry leading her incredibly handsome and sexy husband and their entourage towards their table. For the last ten minutes or so, after introducing her to everyone at the table, Kristen has been held hostage listening politely as Adele talked her ear off. It seemed to her as if the woman barely came up for air, let alone give her a chance to get in a word edgewise. It actually felt more like an interrogation than a light-hearted conversation. The endless barrage of questions being tossed her way made her head spin and her jovial mood quickly sour.

"When were you born?"

"April 9, 1920."

"Where do you originate from?"

"Phoenix, Arizona."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Two brothers, John and Brian and a sister, Karen."

"How long have you known Robert?"

"Forever."

"How did you two meet?"

"I was involved with a friend of his."

"Do you plan on having children?"

"Maybe …"

"How many?"

"I honestly don't know."

"When?"

_Oh dear God, I need a drink!_

Robert leans down and kisses his wife. "Miss me?" he tentatively asks, his lips lingering and poised, ready to steal another one.

Conveying her annoyance with just one steely penetrating look, Kristen replies sweetly, "You know I did." _Don't you dare leave me alone again or you will be in so much trouble buddy. _

Robert sighs heavily and sits down beside her. _What's wrong with her? I knew we should have stayed home. She must have gotten her monthly … damn!_

Edward knowingly smiles at their unspoken exchange and begins the introductions. Placing both of his hands on Bella's shoulders he says, "This is my amazing wife, Adele."

"Hello," Bella greets the others warmly.

"Seated beside her is my cousin, Oliver Fawkes and his lovely wife, Esme."

Carlisle nods. "My pleasure, I'm sure."

"It's very nice to make your acquaintances," Esme says politely.

"On the other side of the table and as unsociable as ever is Esme's niece, Rosalie McCarty."

Rose scowls at Edward and gives everyone else an unconvincing smile.

"And beside Rose is her hen-pecked husband, Emmett."

Emmett gives a wary smile and a quick wave. Rose immediately smacks his upper arm, annoyed that he acknowledged Edward's words so easily. This causes everyone present to chuckle, effectively breaking the ice.

Robert remains standing as he introduces the members of his party.

"I believe at the wedding, most of you met my twin-sister, Elena," Robert says with a distinct edge of pride in his voice.

At twenty-three, Elena resembles a delicate, porcelain doll, petite like her mother and impossibly beautiful. She is resplendent in her knee-length, lightweight cream halter dress that matches her peaches and cream complexion. Her long shiny copper hair is pinned back with two matching hair-clips.

"Next to Elena is her childhood friend, Katherine Hughes …" Robert chuckles when she frowns and raises a questioning brow. He quickly adds, "… better known as Kat."

By contrast Elena's friend, Kat, is tall and willowy. Her jet-black hair is cropped into a short bob and lays slick against her head. Wearing a form-fitting dark gray jacket and flared slacks, at first glance she more resembles a man than a woman. But with the first three buttons of her fuchsia pink shirt purposefully left undone and her ample bosom partially exposed, there is no mistaking her gender on second look. Undoubtedly Kat stands out like a beacon.

"Hello," Elena and Kat repeat in synchrony and take their seats beside each other.

"This is my cousin Matilda Reynolds …"

"Please call me Tillie," she says and claims the chair next to Esme. "They dragged me out tonight," she apologetically explains.

_At thirty, I must be the oldest one at this table. Why did I let Elena talk me into coming? I don't fit in. _

Self-consciously, she starts running her hand along the side of her head smoothing her golden blonde hair into her updo. As compared to the stylish outfits the other women are wearing, she is mindful of her own outdated and conservative dress.

As if she can hear Tillie's thoughts, Elena comments, "Even devoted mothers need to have a little fun sometimes. It'll do your three little rascals good to have their nana and Aunt Renee all to themselves for one evening."

"Last and certainly not least is my good pal and always present sidekick, Louis Gomez," Robert continues.

Tall, dark and handsome in an interesting sort of way with greased overgrown black hair cascading over his prominent cheekbones and a nose that is a little too large for his face, Louis dramatically bows and smiles showcasing his perfect set of white teeth.

"All of my friends call me Skip," he announces before lowering himself down and whispering in Elena's ear, "You on the other hand, can call me anytime."

Elena blushes profusely certain that everyone has heard him. _I wish he would stop with the one-liners. He just doesn't give up ... he's awfully sweet but definitely not my type. _

Overhearing his words and having witnessed his blatant attempts to flirt with her friend at every opportunity while staying at the Masen's home this past week, Kat rolls her eyes.

"When are you going to give it up Skip?" Kat exclaims with bite.

"I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve. For sweet discourses in our time to come," Skip's voice is velvet smooth and his face gazes at Elena with adoration. _What is the key to your heart sweet Elena?_

"Quoting lines from Romeo and Juliet is getting rather lame, don't you think?" Kat rebukes sternly. _Back off Casanova! _

"Hey those were my lines," Robert quips sliding into the seat beside his wife and as if someone has flipped on a light switch, his demeanor suddenly changes. Taking hold of Kristen's small hand in his, Robert recites Romeo's lines, "Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear. That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops …" _I love you …_

Without pause, Kristen replies in character as Juliet, "O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable." _It will always be you …_

"What shall I swear by?" Robert continues to speak softly; his words hang with promise as he swiftly closes the gap between them. _I want you …_

"Do not swear at all …" she mouths breathless as her lips touch his and is consumed by his passionate plea. _I need you …_

"Oh please, do us all a favor and get a room …" Skip chuckles and tosses a napkin from the table in their direction. _Lucky bastard!_

"Hey, we're still on our honeymoon," Robert boldly reminds his envious pal.

Kristen emits a faint sigh and Robert knows that he's been forgiven for whatever transgression he had been guilty of. Stretching his arm across the back of her chair, his long dexterous fingers playfully twirl around the ends of her long, dark-brown hair.

"That was jolly good," Carlisle enthusiastically says clasping his hands together. "I've always enjoyed Shakespeare. Have you done much theatre?"

"Yes, after several less than stellar semesters taking business classes, I was ready to quit college altogether until Skip and Kristen convinced me to try my hand at acting. I was immediately hooked. During one summer break we joined a traveling theatre company. It was an amazing experience … liberating actually. We packed a few things, jumped in my car and went on the road. The plan after graduation was …" Robert is cut off mid-sentence.

"Broadway here we come … the Three Musketeers!" Skip fist pumps and enthusiastically hollers over the growing noise level and the band that is warming up on stage. "Or at least that was the plan until Rob and I got sucked into this God-awful war."

"When do you report for duty?" Bella asks, although she already knows the answer to that question.

"This is Rob's and my last night as civilians," Skip replies. "Tomorrow afternoon, when we sign in at Fort Sheridan, we officially become the property of the United States Army."

"What a coincidence," Carlisle remarks. "Henry and I are to report there tomorrow as well."

"Well then, I propose that we enjoy our last night of freedom and get drunk tonight." Skip gestures for the cocktail waitress to come over.

"The first round is on me," Robert announces when the waitress arrives. He turns and smiles at the pretty young woman whose mouth has just fallen to the floor at the sight of him. "Would you be so kind as to bring us two pitchers of Schlitz?"

"Will that be all," the flustered waitress manages to squeak.

"What would you ladies care for?" Robert asks, remembering his manners.

"A Manhattan – dry please," Kristen answers, forcing the waitress to look her way.

"A Sloe Gin Fizz," Elena adds.

"Beer is fine," Kat says curtly.

"Nothing for me," Tillie says meekly.

"Oh no you don't. You are going to let loose and enjoy yourself for once." Robert shakes his head and turns to the waitress. "She'll have a Bloody Mary."

"I'd love one of those myself," Emmett says with longing, earning Rose's hearty approval. _I don't suppose they'd send the real thing?_

Rose glances over at Edward, giving him a triumphant look and says sweetly to the waitress, "Make that, three Bloody Mary's, I am feeling rather thirsty." _Henpecked husband, my ass … really Edward!_

Edward sighs and slowly shakes his head. _Can't they behave even for just one night?_

"Esme? Adele? What would you care for?" Robert questions, tilting his head in their direction. _What is the story with Henry and Rose? I am detecting a little animosity between them … ex-lovers perhaps or maybe not ex? _

"Sparkling water would be nice," Esme replies. _Robert is such a nice young man … so much like his father. _

"The same for me but with a twist of lime," Bella adds, keeping up the charade.

"I'm starving," Kristen announces while gazing adoringly at Robert, the two exchanging a private moment. "Would you bring us a sampler platter of appetizers as well?" Kristen asks before the waitress turns around and disappears into the crowd.

The warm-up band is playing a rousing number and the dance floor is quickly filling with dozens of smiling couples eager to enjoy themselves. With arms outstretched and only their hands to connect them, they begin by taking a step backwards while their partner takes a calculated step forward. Together they twirl and spin, their feet a syncopated rhythm of footwork quickly shuffling before reversing and moving in closer as through an embrace. It is highly spirited and infectious dancing. Those less daring quickly clear the way to admire the advance moves of those more daring who are spinning and flipping their partners with ease high into the air.

Emmett grabs hold of Rose's hand. "Come on, baby, let's show them how it's done."

Quickly they disappear into the throng of couples twirling, dipping and swinging along the way. Tillie wistfully watches the seemingly happy and carefree couples and takes a sip of her drink. Her heart aches for her husband, Douglas, and she wonders what he is doing this very minute. It's been several weeks since she received his last letter and of course, it had been screened for any mention of his whereabouts or reference to his mission. This thought causes her to blush as she imagines some stranger reading her husband's words of passion and steadfast devotion to her. All she knows for certain is that he is on a submarine somewhere out in the Pacific. Silently she says a prayer for her Douglas as well as his fellow crewmates and their families who are also missing their loved ones this night.

Sensing her melancholy, Esme tenderly touches Tillie's shoulder and gives her a sincere smile. "Please tell me about your children."

Her sadness dissipates at the mentioning of her precious offspring. Turning to face the beautiful woman seated on her right, Tillie gazes into the cavernous pool of compassion and empathy reflected in Esme's eyes. While the humans at their table strain to hear her soft voice above the raucous noise, the vampires have no such difficulty.

"My husband and I have been blessed to have three amazing children," Tillie gushes and reaches inside her purse for her wallet-size photo album. "Arthur is our oldest. He is almost seven and is extremely intelligent. His future ambition is to follow in his father's footsteps by becoming an architect as well as a city bus driver and a manager at a Dairy Queen making ice cream cones."

A round of laughter ensues.

"What a fine looking family," Esme says, putting Tillie at ease and passes the photographs around the table.

"Our daughter, Isabella, is four and is as pretty as her namesake but she is just as headstrong and precocious as I was at her age," Tillie smiles, "She fawns over her baby brother – Douglas Jr, who turned seven months old today."

Remembering how touched she was that her cousin would name her daughter after her, Bella inquires, "Did you choose your daughter's name after a family member or does it have some special meaning for you?"

"Both," Tillie replies. "Isabella was named in honor of my cousin Isabella Swan – Robert and Elena's mother and my Aunt Renee's daughter. Bella, as we all called her; lived with my family when I was quite little… she was like a big sister to me."

Sighing heavily she continues, "And I simply adored Bella's husband, Edward. He was very handsome and incredibly sweet. I remember him telling George and me some of our favorite bedtime stories and changing their endings. When I was five years old Edward saved my life. I'd been feeding the ducks and wasn't paying attention when I slipped and fell into the pond. No one but Edward saw it happen and if he hadn't been there to jump in after me, I wouldn't be sitting with you all here tonight. He was my first crush and can you believe that I asked him to wait until I grew up so I could marry him. But even as young as I was, I knew that his heart belonged to Bella. It's so very sad the way things turned out. "

Edward is touched by Tillie's fond memories of him. "I'm sure that Edward cared for you deeply."

"Bella was fortunate to have you in her life," Bella says, wishing she could give her cousin a hug and tell her the truth about her fate.

Before the festive mood completely nose-dives Carlisle delves in. "Rest assured Tillie, Edward and Bella are together as they were meant to be."

"I suppose they are," Tillie says reflectively. _I miss them. _

Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation has taken, Robert reaches inside his suit jacket and takes out a pack of Camels. With the flick of his wrist he removes a cigarette and offers them to Kristen and Skip. He brings the lighter to his wife's cigarette before lighting his own and then tosses it to Skip. Taking a deep drag, he is suddenly aware that all eyes are on him, including his sister and cousin with marked disapproval written on their faces.

"I'm sorry, that was rather rude of me," he says apologetically as he removes the pack and offers them to the others.

"You smoke Robert?" Bella inquires unable to mask her surprise. Even more so when she sees Edward take one too.

_Something else a mother should know about her son … what else don't I know about my children? And what on earth are you doing Edward?_

Irritated by Adele's strange reaction to her husband's habit, Kristen softly exhales a stream of smoke in her general direction. _Practically everyone smokes. What is her problem? _

Robert flicks his ashes into the ashtray and smirks. "I was eleven, I think when one of the guys brought his father's smokes to school. We spent our entire lunch hiding outside; huddled in the freezing cold puffing one after another … man was I sick. You think I'd have learned my lesson but I rather liked it."

Tillie mutters under her breath. "Nasty habit."

Edward rolls the cigarette between his thumb and index finger and examines it before bringing it up to his lips. The only reason he had taken one was because it was Robert who offered it, that and he wanted to appear 'normal'. As the smoke enters his vampire system, he starts to cough and without thinking, reaches over for his beer. Taking a big swig, he swallows before realizing it was a huge mistake and suppresses the urge to spit it back out. _And to think I used to consider this a good time. _

"Ed ... Henry, are you alright?" Bella asks, quickly recovering from her near blunder.

"Yes, fine … Adele." He says, emphasizing her name.

"Admit it Robbie, you only liked it because you thought it made you look tough," Elena huffs. "I'll never forget the conniption grandma had when she discovered a pack inside your drawer," Elena smiles at the memory of the tongue-lashing their grandmother had given her brother. "Didn't she send Uncle Arthur to set you straight?"

"Yeah, I remember that conversation well." Taking another drag of his cigarette he smirks and says; "Basically he told me that I had to be more careful and then showed me where he hid his stash."

"My dad did not smoke!" Tillie says indignantly. "He always smelled of peppermint, not disgusting tobacco."

Robert reaches inside his jacket and takes out a small tin of Altoids and offers one to her. "You were saying?"

"Tillie, would you care to dance?" Skip offers coming to Robert's rescue. _My, my … Rob is testy tonight. _

Irritated that her father's memory had been besmirched, Tillie downs the remainder of her drink in one long swallow and glances disdainfully in Robert's direction before pushing her chair back and following Skip out to the dance floor. All eyes are on them as they disappear and blend into the crowd.

"You haven't always been the angel either Lena," Robert laughs and continues down this contentious path. "You just didn't get caught."

"I don't know what you are talking about …" Elena stammers, wondering what he has on her. "Unlike you, I never gave grandma or Aunt Clara any grief whatsoever."

Robert lets out a hearty laugh. "What about the sleepovers you had with Kat and the other legion of blind followers?" Robert challenges. "I'll bet you never noticed that I snuck downstairs and watched as you girls passed around the bottle of Uncle Arthur's bourbon …"

"We most certainly did not!" Elena shrieks, her voice rising. "It was soda pop."

Kat glares furiously at Robert, shaking her head from side to side and gestures with her fingers skimming across her lips for him to 'zip' it.

Ignoring Kat, he continues, "Yeah … sure it was. How about the many times you snuck into grandma's bedroom when she wasn't home?" He raises a questioning eyebrow. "I never said anything but I've always wondered, what exactly did you do it there Lena?"

Purposefully evading his inquiry and eager to bring their conversation to a merciful end, Elena quickly rises. "I need to freshen up. Would anyone care to go with me?"

Immediately Kat is by her side. And although their make-up is still as perfect it was when it was first applied, Bella tilts her head in Esme's direction who understands her silent plea, and together they rise and follow them to the ladies room. As the girls slide inside the stalls for a human moment, the refined vampires hang back and wait. Re-emerging the girls quickly wash their hands before reaching inside their purses and reapplying their lipstick. Inspecting herself in the mirror, Bella runs her hand over her blonde wig checking to be sure her chestnut brown hair isn't poking out while Esme dabs her favorite perfume behind her ears.

"My little brother knows just how to get under my skin and as usual at the most inopportune times," Elena sighs. "Don't get me wrong, being twins Robbie and I have always been close but there are some things that I've kept from him. He's had his fair share of issues to deal with and I didn't want to add to them."

"Elena, you don't have to explain anything to us," Bella says sympathetically. "Boys are … well, let's just say they are an entirely different species."

Kat laughs. "Aliens ... truer words were never spoken!"

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Elena says wistfully, "It upset my grandma so I never directly asked her for permission but I often found myself drawn to her closet. Up on the top shelf she kept several boxes that contained my mother's clothing and other personal items. I would use the small chair from her vanity and climb up to take a box down. Then I'd close my eyes and bury my nose in the fabric. I could smell her sweet fragrance and for a few short minutes, she was real. When I was older, I even tried on a dress or two …"

Pained by her daughter's confession, Bella quickly pulls Elena into a tight embrace and gently pats her back. She whispers to her softly, "Oh Elena, I'm so very sorry."

Bewildered by the strong reaction of a woman she barely knows and sensing that she is the one in need of comforting, Elena hugs her back before disentangling herself.

"It's alright ... really ... I'm fine. It was a long time ago." She gazes curiously at Bella and wonders what it is about her that just caused her to confide something so personal.

"I'm afraid I know what it feels like." Bella casts her eyes downward. "I lost my dear mother several years ago."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, Adele, but actually it isn't the same." Elena says emphatically and closes her purse. "I'm guessing that you had an actual relationship with your mother. Mine was more like an enigma. I often imagined she was my very own guardian angel and that my father was … well, that is another topic for me to discuss with my shrink although I'm sure Mr. Taylor would probably say that it may explain my singular taste in men."

Kat flashes Elena a look of reproach. "What she means by that is, older men, men who could be her father, who aren't readily available."

"Not necessarily," Elena snaps. "Warren wasn't married …"

"No but he was your professor and he should have had his ass fired for what he did to you," Kat retorts and heads for the door.

Elena rushes forward and grabs hold of Kat's upper arm. "I was far from being a child and furthermore, it was _consensual_. You promised you wouldn't bring it up again. Kat … drop it please. Robbie doesn't know and I don't want him to."

"I'll let it go ... just like the good professor did when the next attractive and vulnerable co-ed turned his head." Pushing the door open, Kat storms out, muttering under her breath loud enough for Bella and Esme to hear. "I'll never understand what you saw in that scumbag …"

Shaken by her exchange with Kat, Elena is left standing there, staring uncomfortably at Bella and Esme, who have purposefully remained quiet.

"I'm sorry … she means well. She simply doesn't approve of the relationships I have had or the men I tend to be attracted to. Mr. Taylor said it's because I never knew my father, that I want a man to take his place but ultimately pick unattainable men so I can feel rejected. I don't know if I buy that but I suppose it's possible," she says with a shrug, "Kat's been my closest and dearest friend since I was five when Robbie and I moved here with our grandma after Grandpa Charlie died. She is nearly as protective of me as my brother is."

"No need to apologize, Elena," Esme says warmly hoping to reassure Elena that her secret is safe. "We all have our skeletons in the closet, so to speak."

**.**

**.**

"Only my immediate family attended our wedding," Kristen says leaning into her husband's side. She takes hold of her drink with one hand before bringing her cigarette up to her mouth with the other. "So tell me, what is your connection to Robert's family?"

Carlisle having anticipated this question would eventually come up had an answer already prepared. _Don't worry Edward. I've got this covered. _

Carlisle starts out by bestowing her with one of his warm smiles. "It's really quite simple, actually. You see my maternal grandmother; Rosemary Walsh and Elizabeth Masen were third cousins, twice removed. I recently learned of our family connection while going through my deceased mother's papers. My mum left me a building here in Chicago, down by the shipping docks that had once been a vacant warehouse. Her father purchased it from Elizabeth's father as an investment and had the empty space converted into apartments. I also found the deed to a hundred wooded acres in Washington State but that is another story. When Henry and I enlisted and learned that we'd both be stationed at nearby Fort Sheridan for our training, I thought it would be a good idea for us to arrive early to check out my inheritance. I wanted to ascertain the general condition of the building to decide whether or not to keep it or put it on the market to sell."

Edward adds, "While we were attending church services at Trinity, the pastor announced that Robert Masen would be getting married the following Saturday. I inquired whether this person was any relation to Elizabeth Masen and was told that he was her grandson."

"Curiosity got the better of us," Carlisle says sheepishly.

"We sort of crashed your wedding," Edward finishes, appearing contrite. "I hope that you don't mind."

Taking another drag of the cigarette Edward feels the burn as it travels past his throat and into his lungs. Slowly he exhales. _Nasty habit! Did I really like these things?_ They seem to mellow and relax his son and daughter-in-law but to Edward's surprise, the tobacco is having an unexpected effect on him. His carefully contrived self-control is beginning to dissipate and to his utter astonishment he realizes that he is … thirsty and not for his regular fare. His eyes focus in on the blood coursing through Kristen's jugular vein just under the crook of her neck … _thump thump ... thump thump … _Immediately he extinguishes the cigarette. _Control Edward!_

"Since you are Oliver's cousin Henry, does that mean you are related to Robert as well? I ask because the resemblance between you two is uncanny," Kristen remarks, eyeing her husband and Edward more closely.

Edward nods, loosening his shirt collar. _Her blood smells sweet. _Robert chuckles in spite of having noticed Henry eyeing his beautiful wife. _You can look all you want but you'd better not touch._

"Of course we don't mind that you came to our wedding." Leaning forward he extinguishes his cigarette and reaches inside his jacket for another. "I am very sorry about your mother, Oliver."

"Thank you," Carlisle says politely. _They bought it!_

"Will Emmett be reporting for duty tomorrow too?" Robert asks zeroing in on the robust Emmett and incredibly limber Rose who have essentially parted the dance floor with their lively rendition of the Charleston and Lindy hop combined.

Edward slowly shakes his head. "You'd never know it just by looking at the big guy but the army rejected him because of his flat feet. I wouldn't mention it though. It's been a huge blow to his over inflated ego."

"How awful for him," Kristen casually remarks while watching Emmett perform a series of back-flips.

"Well, it's reassuring for us to know that while we're overseas bravely serving our country and risking our lives, Emmett will be safe at home with the girls," Edward smirks giving his brother a quick wave knowing full well that he heard him.

Every man within sight noticeably cringes and reaches for his privates upon seeing Emmett drop down into a spectacular full split. With a smile plastered on his triumphant face, he looks directly at Edward and prominently extends his middle finger. _Do you really want to fuck with me, brother?_

"Will they be staying in Chicago while you're away?" Robert asks as he pours the last few drops of beer into his glass.

"Yes, that is until Henry and I are done with training," Carlisle replies and keeping up with the pretense, takes a small sip of the foul-tasting beer. He shudders knowing it won't taste any better when he has to retch it up later. "While we're overseas Emmett will be assisting with the construction of the new house Esme and I will be building on the property I inherited in Washington."

Esme brightens upon hearing her mate's mention of their plans as the women return to the table. Rose and Emmett, who don't seem to have a single hair out of place or a drop of sweat on their brow, closely follow them. By contrast when Tillie and Skip return, she is flushed and in desperate need of the ladies room to freshen up.

"Come with me Kristen," Tillie implores pulling her out of her chair. Extinguishing her cigarette, she dutifully takes off with Robert's cousin.

Noticing the empty pitchers on the table, Skip laments loudly, "Damn Robert! You could have saved us some." _Some things never change. _

"Robert and I were just about to head over to the bar and have the pitchers refilled, weren't we?" Edward volunteers. "I'm buying the next round."

"Absolutely … cousin," Robert says grinning.

Having successfully navigated their way to the long, sleek bar on the far side of the room, Robert and Edward stand and patiently wait for the bartender to finish the order he is working on. Edward chastises himself for his wayward thoughts yet again as the venom starts pooling in his mouth. Determined not to fall off the wagon, he scans the bar hoping for some sort of distraction. Seated at the very end of the bar, hunched over and nursing his drink is a familiar face; one that he is certain doesn't belong there.

Edward leans over. "Excuse me for a minute."

No sooner does Edward step away than Robert finds Emmett by his side grinning down at him and standing just a little too close for comfort. Robert gives him a nod acknowledging his presence. Still smarting from the slew of insensitive comments Edward hurled at him a week ago after he dragged him away from the wedding, Emmett decides that it's time he evened the score.

"It looks like you and Henry are getting along well," he snickers.

"Yeah, he seems like a nice guy," Robert remarks, taking a step back.

"Yeah I suppose but that Adele is a wildcat. Meow! You'll enjoy trying to tame her," Emmett adds, enjoying the look of bewilderment on Robert's face. "Now Kristen isn't exactly Henry's type but I'm sure he'll have no problem rising to the occasion if you know what I mean."

"Excuse me?" Robert swallows, nervously running his fingers through his hair, unsure if he heard him correctly. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Oh I'm sorry." Emmett feigns ignorance. "I thought he would have approached you by now."

The wheels are spinning fast in Robert's head as he puts two and two together. "Are you telling me Henry and Adele, swap partners?"

Emmett lets out a hearty laugh and raises his hands in mock defensive. "You didn't hear that from me. Just know that dancing isn't the only thing those two enjoy." He winks at Robert. "Let me give you a little piece of advice." Leaning closer he says, "Henry's been known to swings both ways … don't drop the bar of soap while in the communal shower on base," he says with a wag of his brow.

Emmett chuckles to himself as he saunters back to the table to retrieve Rose, leaving a flabbergasted Robert behind. All this talk of sex has left him feeling rather frisky.

**.**

**.**

From behind Edward taps on the teenage boy's shoulder, "How did you manage to get in here?"

"Come on man, give me a break." His eyes dart over to the bartender who is heading in their direction. "Whatever my old man is paying you, I'll give you another ten." He reaches inside his jacket for his wallet.

"I don't want your money," Edward says, reaching for the boys arm. "As an old friend of your dad's I'm taking you home now, Edward."

"The hell you are!" he spits. In an effort to escape Edward's hold, he twists and stumbles off the barstool.

"You are drunk," Edward sighs unable to mask his disapproval and slowly shakes his head. "Unless you'd rather I inform the bartender that you've been using a fake ID and would like to spend the rest of night in jail …"

"No!" Edward's namesake wails. "Okay, I'll go with you. Do you have to tell my dad though?"

**.**

**.**

"Good, you're still here Robert," Edward says, his hand firmly on young Edward's arm. "Could you tell Adele that I've stepped outside for some fresh air and that I'll be right back?

Robert uncomfortably shuffles, unable to look Henry in the eye. "Yeah, sure …" _Fresh air? Is that what you call it? _

"Hey, I know you!" An inebriated young man with bright red hair seated at the bar spins around and says loud enough for everyone within a five-foot radius to hear. "I'm sorry about the clap man. I didn't know I had it." He shakes his head. "Would you believe those sons-of-bitches lost my blood? Be glad you didn't have mine as they found out I have …"

Robert rudely cuts him off mid-sentence. "Kristen and I are leaving _now_. Good luck tomorrow." Still holding his empty pitchers, Robert makes a beeline back to the table. _The big guy was right … I would never have guessed._

_EMMETT!_

* * *

**A/N: I know I threw a lot at you in this chapter but it was necessary as our story unfolds. Were you pleased to learn more about Robert and Elena? And what do you think of our newest characters Kat and Skip? Who is the guy with the bright red hair anyway and what the hell is wrong with him? I think it's safe to say that Edward isn't very happy with Emmett. **

**As always, feel free to ask me any questions. If I can answer them, I will. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments too.**


	4. Chapter Three

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: It's been quite a night for Edward and Bella so far, hasn't it? And it's about to get a whole lot more interesting too …**

**I'd like to take a moment to bow my head and thank the Almighty for my Beta T, Lovin Rob who not only cleans up my messes but also has been a great sounding board. She calmly and patiently listens to all of my crazy ideas and keeps me on track. Thanks bb!**

* * *

Jack and Jill went up the hill

To fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown,

And Jill came tumbling after.

Chapter Three

Young Edward passes out as soon as he slides inside Carlisle's Oldsmobile, that or he is pretending to be so he doesn't have to talk. Having unbridled access to his thoughts, Edward knows it is the later. Leaning against the passenger side door, he is as far away from Edward as he can possibly get. For now, Edward decides to leave him be and drive in peace. He has enough on his own mind than to concern himself with the thoughts of a hostile and rebellious teenager. Finding the irony of the situation, Edward laughs to himself.

_YOU are seventeen! You're only a year older than this boy. _

Technically this is true. Although Edward is forever trapped inside the perfect physique of a teenager, mentally he is more like a middle-aged man, a man with a lifetime of experience and then some and after the unexpected twists and turns of this night he feels weary.

Before backing out of the parking space, Edward looks to his left and chuckles again upon seeing a young couple engaged in faire l'amour in the backseat of the car next to his. They are so engrossed in what they are doing that they've barely come up for air. Edward can hear their sweet blood coursing through their veins … tempting him … teasing him. _Stop it!_

_Oh my God! This is really going to happen … he promised to get me inside and buy me a drink afterwards. Trish was only fifteen when her cherry was popped and I'll have her beat by a year. She said it isn't such a big deal … 'best to get it over and done with'. Gee, I hope it won't hurt too much … _

_Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all …_

"Please stop … I've changed my mind," the girl says firmly. When that doesn't work she tries pushing him off of her but he is bigger and stronger than she is.

"You know you want it, baby." With his knee wedged firmly between her legs, he tugs at her panties and rips them off.

"I REALLY don't want to do this!" she yells, hitting his head and shoulders with her fists.

In the blink of an eye Edward shifts the lever on the steering wheel back into park and is outside of the car. The next second he's opening the rear passenger door and takes hold of the man's jacket effectively pulling him off of the girl. With his erect cock dangling in mid-air and his pants and boxers dangling down at his ankles, the man furiously twists trying to break free from Edward's strong grasp.

"Let go of me!" the man snarls. "Mind your own goddamn business! Can't you see that I was busy?"

When he catches sight of Edward's dark ominous eyes and watches his face contort with rage, he immediately goes limp. _If looks could kill … this guy is a fucking nuts! _

At this moment, the only thing stopping Edward from silencing the man permanently is the two sets of eyes staring intently at him. It would be so easy for him to sink his razor-sharp teeth into the side of the man's neck and drink the sweet nectar that he is so desperately craving. _No witnesses! _Closing his eyes, he turns his head away and takes several deep-cleaning breaths until he starts to feel himself calm.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the man yells.

Edward takes another long, hard look at the man and quickly sums up the situation. He is much older than the girl … probably in his late twenties and he's married. His wedding band has been conveniently removed but the indentations around his finger remain … and he's been drinking … quite a lot from the way his blood smells. Reaching inside the man's jacket Edward takes out his wallet and in the dim light, reads his driver's license.

"Are you alright?" Edward calls over to the girl who is struggling to readjust her clothing while attempting to sit up.

Whimpering softly, she doesn't answer him. By this time, young Edward has miraculously wakened from his self-induced coma and is standing outside, peering at the girl inside the car.

"Sandra?" he says in disbelief. _Holy shit! It's my sister. _"Is that you?"

"So what if it is?" she says sniffling, her attitude turning belligerent and hostile. "Do you think you're the only one who can sneak out of the house undetected? Really Eddie, if you got me the ID like I asked you to I wouldn't be here so this is entirely YOUR fault!" She angrily climbs out of the car.

"Bitch!" Eddie mutters under his breath.

"Don't talk to your sister like that," Edward sternly rebukes him.

Eddie asks, "How did you know that she's my sis …" but backtracks when he connects the dots. "Oh yeah, right, you're a good friend of my old man. Hey, aren't you a little young to be hanging out with him?"

"Oh shit! He knows dad? This is just great. " Sandra wails.

"Come on mister, put me down," the now-frightened man pleads.

Edward considers his choices on how best to handle this situation. _What do I do now? I can't kill him, can I? No, I cannot, even as thirsty as I am … don't want to irretrievably traumatize the children … Call the authorities? I should but no, I can't do that either. Shit! My every instinct tells me to call the police but if word were to get out that the district attorney's underage son was out drinking with a fake ID and his fourteen year-old daughter was doing God knows what in the backseat of a car with a virtual stranger, it would probably ruin Seagull's run for mayor or worse. Should I just let him go? Dammit! I wish Carlisle were here. He'd know exactly what to do. _

"You should be thanking me," Edward's voice is stone cold. "At fourteen it is called statutory rape. I just saved your sorry ass from serving some serious jail time not to mention your marriage although I'm not so sure your wife would agree if she knew of your extracurricular activities." He then lowers the stunned man down and releases him.

"I swear I didn't know she was underage. Can't we just forget this ever happened?" the man stammers, glaring at Sandra while zipping up his fly. "Look at the way she's dressed for Christ's sake. Does she look fourteen to you? The little whore said she was eighteen."

"You bastard!" Sandra yells and lunges at him, strands of her light brown hair dangling free from her ponytail fall over her face. "You're blaming me? I told you to stop." Summoning all her strength, she pulls her arm back and takes a swing. _What was I thinking? This guy is a complete douche._

"Cocktease," he laughs with contempt as he catches her hand mid-air and pushes her away from him. He spits in her direction and it lands by her feet. Eddie darts forward with his hands fisted.

"What did you just call my sister, asshole?" _I'm going to kick his sorry ass!_

Keeping Eddie at bay with one hand, Edward grabs the man's collar with the other and again lifts him up off the ground as if he weighed no more than a feather.

"Apologize to her," Edward says in a steely voice.

"Sorry," he whimpers. _ Who the fuck does this guy think he is anyway? Some sort of comic book super hero like Captain America or Superman?_

Answering his unspoken thoughts, Edward smirks and brings him closer so that he can whisper in his ear, "No Gerald Briner who resides at 52 Lexington Avenue, Apartment 121B … I'm the bad guy and I'd had better not catch you out here with another underage girl – strike that … _any girl_, or I promise you that I'll take matters into my own hands and trust me, you don't want that."

Edward unceremoniously drops him to the ground. The three stand and watch as the shaken man scrambles to his feet and then sprints to the building without looking back before disappearing inside. For a long minute no one says anything.

"Both of you … get in the car," Edwards sighs, breaking the silence. "I'm taking you home." _Can this night possibly get any worse?_

Stunned by what they have just witnessed, both brother and sister have turned complacent and resigned to the abominable fate that most assuredly awaits them when Edward delivers them to their parent's doorstep and exposes their transgressions. Without protest they climb into the back seat of the Oldsmobile. Turning the key in the ignition the engine roars to life. Edward slowly backs the car out of its parking space and makes a right turn before speeding down the one-way street.

_Damn, I'm going to be grounded for life … this isn't fair! Trish's parents never punish her. _

_Another year and a half before I turn eighteen and then I can get the hell out of this hellhole and do whatever I want, whenever I want with no one to tell me otherwise. _

_Being a parent is a lot harder than I imagined … Seagull and Sarah have their hands full with these two. _

"Where to?" Edward asks realizing he doesn't know which direction he should be driving.

"Seriously, you really don't know?" Eddie remarks snidely and doesn't offer any information. _Shouldn't a so-called 'good friend' of dad's know that we live at 955 Maple Street?_

"Of course, I do," Edward jests. "Just checking to see if you two are alright back there." Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he catches Eddie rolling his eyes.

_My old neighborhood … _At the next traffic light, Edward makes a U-turn and drives in the opposite direction. He knows these streets like the back of his hand or at least he used to. Soon he reaches the ballpark where he spent countless hours hanging out with his friends and smiles to himself. _It's still there. They haven't turned it into another capitalistic source of tax revenue … yet. _He can almost hear their voices echo as he drives past.

"_You throw like a god-damned girl, Oddman!" Seagull bellowed. "Including my grandmother and she's half-blind!"_

"_Yeah, well that explains why she screwed that ugly-ass guinea dwarf and created a line of mutants!" Oddman snarled right back in Seagulls face._

Turning right at the intersection of Fitzhugh and Clemens Streets, Edward frowns when discovering that Odette's Bakery, one of his favorite places to stop for a mouth-watering treat after school, is now a dry cleaning store. He's temporarily comforted to know that Pulaski's Butcher shop is still in business but is saddened when learning that the rapidly expanding conglomerate of chain stores, F.W. Woolworth's, has swallowed up Fieldstrom's Nickel and Dime Emporium. _Nothing stays the same forever … nothing that is except for me. _A few blocks later he passes his old school, Roosevelt High. From the outside it looks exactly the same as it did when Edward graced its halls and he briefly wonders if Simon is still the principal. _No, he's probably six feet under. _

"_So nice of you to join us today, Mr. Masen," Principal Simon said dripping with sarcasm. "Why aren't you in class gentlemen?" he added looking at the other boys. "You were all here before the late bell rang thirty minutes ago. Now shoo - get to class." All four boys started to walk away._

"_Not so fast Mr. Masen," Principal Simon said menacingly. Edward stopped but the others continued walking quickly away. "I'd like to have a word with you first in my office. I believe you know the way."_

"Have you two ever done anything like this before?" Edward suddenly asks the two brooding teenagers in the backseat, breaking his stroll down memory lane and feeling as if he has somehow taken on the role of his former nemesis. His inquiry goes unanswered.

_All the time …_

_Every chance I get …_

"Won't your parents notice that you aren't home?" he asks, probing further. Snickers resonate from the backseat.

_Dad isn't home much these days … he's always 'busy' at the office._

_The only thing mom notices these days is the shirtless gardener, Jose. _

Their insolent behavior is beginning to make sense to Edward, recognizing himself in them and remembering his own abysmal relationship with Senior. But it saddens him to know that two of his dearest friends, Seagull and Sarah, seem to have drifted apart over the years; sadder still to know that their children are fully aware and suffering because of it. He drives the rest of the way in contemplative silence. Turning onto Maple Street, he passes his former home – Elena and Robert's home and is once again caught up in nostalgia as the entire front entrance is brightly lit for their return, the way it used to be when his own dear mother would wait up for him.

"_How was your evening Edward?" Elizabeth asked her son ever so sweetly while putting her book down on her lap._

_There was one soft light shining beside her and the glow of the fire burning in the fireplace warmed the room. He walked inside and gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek._

"_I had a most wonderful evening mother." He smiled warmly at her. He knew that she was scrutinizing him carefully. "Truly I did. How was yours?"_

"_I can see that. I've curled up with a good book and a nice cup of tea so I can't complain. Will I be meeting the young lady who is making my son so happy anytime soon?" Elizabeth was fishing. "Or do I already know her?"_

Before arriving at Eddie and Sandra's home, Edward steers the car over to the curb and turns off the headlights. _I hope I'm doing the right thing. _

"I trust that you both know how to sneak back into the house?" he asks while glancing in the rearview mirror. They audibly gasp, shocked by his inquiry.

Sandra's mouth drops open in surprise. "You're going to let us go? Just like that?"

"Aren't you going to turn us in to our warden," Eddie questions, appearing to be genuinely perplexed.

"No I'm not," Edward replies. "I probably should but I trust you both know how much trouble you could have been in tonight and that you are intelligent enough not to do it again. But just in case I'm wrong, know that I'll be keeping a close eye on you two and should it happen again, I will not hesitate in going straight to your father."

"Gee thanks mister," Sandra says quickly before opening the car door and running to the back of the house. _What a schmuck! _

Eddie lingers a bit longer in the backseat looking as if he has something to say but not knowing precisely how to say it. _It's been a long time since someone believed in me._

He hesitates momentarily before finally asking, "Hey, what's your name?"

Edward retorts, "That doesn't really matter now does it?"

"It does to me," Eddie says with sincerity. Opening the door, he takes a step out before he hears Edward call out to him.

"Spunk," Edward says closing his eyes. _A long time ago and in another life. _

"Thanks for coming to my sister's aid tonight, Spunk."

Eddie closes the car door and casually strolls towards his house. _Spunk … nice name, … but Spunk is too cool to associate with the likes of my old man. I don't get it … _

~BtBB~

It's well past midnight by the time Edward turns into the parking lot at the Aragon Ballroom and this time he has no trouble finding a parking space. People clustered in small groups are trickling out its doors as well as couples engaged in varying degrees of public affection. They run the gamut from innocent handholding to flagrantly groping and kissing as they continue on their way back to their cars, often bumping into those ahead of them in the process. It's likely they aren't thinking at all as the heady combination of alcohol and hormones have unleashed their inhibitions.

Edward knowingly smiles, as he brushes by them with no difficulty whatsoever as the two security guards that had been at the door all evening are no longer at their posts. He quickly maneuvers through the masses and finds that the table he had been seated at earlier is now unoccupied. Closing his eyes, he concentrates on sifting through the many voices swirling in his head to find if anyone is still there.

_I am a fortunate woman to have a mate such as Carlisle … so kind and compassionate not to mention handsome, sexy and incredibly talented in our bedro ... _

Edward cuts her off mid-sentence. _No need to intrude on her private thoughts. _Turning around, he opens his eyes and quickly locates both her and Carlisle, slow dancing out on the dance floor. He scans the perimeter of the room searching for any sign of Robert and Elena or for any of the other members of his children's entourage. Finding none, he slowly shakes his head. _Damn … they must have left. Emmett, you are going to be in a shit-load of trouble when I get a hold of you!_

**BOOM! **

**BOOM!**

**BOOM!**

A series of explosions and tremors that resemble mini-earthquakes shake the entire building, followed by a steady high-pitched hissing sound emanating from the nearby restrooms. Already a stream of genuinely frightened people have started bolting for the exit doors while others have taken cover underneath the tables uncertain exactly what they should be doing if indeed, an attack has been launched against the populace.

_Oh dear God! We're being bombed!_

**BOOM!**

_Heaven help us! Is it the Krauts or the Japs? _

**BOOM!**

A more familiar voice raises above all the others in Edward's mind as he hurries toward its source.

_Yes! Oh fucking yes! Rosie baby … that's it … you know what I like. I'm gonna pound my cock into your sweet pussy until I penetrate the deepest, tightest areas of your … _**BOOM!** _Christ! Until I split you in two … Fuck yes! _**BOOM!**

_Fuck me harder Em! _**BOOM!** _Come on baby … I'm almost there. _

Having arrived at the scene of the commotion, Edward stands off to the side and discreetly observes the handful of petrified employees gathered outside the men's room. All eyes are staring at the door handle like it's a bomb about to detonate. Occasionally they look up and exchange glances, one to the other, while waiting for someone to garner up the courage to open the door. Water is beginning to seep out from beneath the small slit and into the corridor. The screaming of fire trucks and police sirens going off in the distance grows louder with each passing second. No doubt the air sirens will be the next to blare and spread general mayhem and pandemonium throughout the streets of Chicago.

_What now? I can't just open the door and walk inside and drag those two assholes out, can I?_ For the third time this evening, Edward is faced with having to make a tough call.

"I say we go inside," a man, who appears to be the manager in charge, bravely announces as he takes two steps back. "Howard … you go first." _After all, I'm needed out here …_

Howard vigorously shakes his head. "Hell no, you don't pay me enough!" _Yellow bellied, spineless, dickless son of a town whore!_

There is a soft tapping on Edward's shoulder. Detecting her familiar scent, he turns around. Not only can't he hear her thoughts, he can't see her either.

"Bella," he says and sighs with relief.

Edward was never able to read Bella's thoughts while she was human and even afterwards when she became immortal, much to his dismay, that hadn't changed, the only exception being when they were intimately joined. In fact, her ability to block others and protect herself grew more pronounced but in a way that was quite unexpected and totally unique. It wasn't until their clan had gone to Denali to live for an extended period of time, that Eleazar recognized her extraordinary gift and helped her develop and fine-tune it. Bella's gift was the ability to completely shield herself, at will, by vanishing from inside the minds of both humans and vampires alike. While she was still there physically, for all intent and purposes, she wasn't. But if one were to reach out and touch or brush against her, they would learn otherwise.

In a voice too low for human detection, she replies, "Can you get rid of them?"

_Mission: Bella saves the day! _Edward chuckles at his wife's request that he provide a diversion so she can enter the bathroom and retrieve the two, very naughty, vampires inside and get them out before they are discovered. It seems like a good plan to him. After all he reasons, if Emmett isn't willing to control his lustful behavior, who's to say what he'll do next. What if Emmett decides to go on a bloodthirsty rampage after he and Rose finish copulating? Single-handedly Emmett could ruin all of his and Carlisle's carefully construed plans, especially if they have to pick up and leave Chicago. Clearly Emmett has demonstrated once again that he is unreliable. It irks Edward because Rose should have known better but clearly that was her intent. _Touché_

It's a passerby who answers Bella's request for a distraction by screaming at the top of his lungs while pushing and shoving the person ahead of him forward in a feeble attempt to get him to move along faster. It is like trying to push the grains of sand through the tiny opening of an hourglass.

"THERE'S A BOMB INSIDE! THE WHOLE PLACE IS GOING TO EXPLODE ANY SECOND NOW!"

Not wasting another second, all of the employees including their heroic manager abandon their noble quest and join the mass exodus to make their escape. No one pays Edward any mind when tugging on the door handle, three or more inches of water immediately burst out. Edward steps inside the men's restroom along with Bella, who is still shielding, and closes the door behind them.

At least it _used_ to be a men's restroom. The white and black-checkered wall tiles have all been crushed and smashed to smithereens, the same goes for the white marbled flooring beneath the rapidly rising water. It's as if someone has taken a sledgehammer to it. The metal partitions that separated the toilet stalls have been ripped to shreds and the toilets themselves have been totally obliterated. Like a geyser that has blown its top, water is spewing out of the exposed pipes spectacularly in all directions, as are the sinks that have been pulled from the walls. It truly looks as if a bomb has gone off.

Emmett and Rose are completely oblivious to the chaos swirling all around them including Edward, who is standing in their midst. With his fly unbuttoned, Emmett has Rose pinned up against the remnants of what was once a urinal. Moaning as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through her core, Rose closes her eyes and throws her head back creating yet another hole in the wall. Stretching her arms high above her head she digs her fingernails into the wall pulling out chunks of plaster as her body reaches the apex of her orgasm, consuming and plunging her into its vortex. And unlike human orgasms that lasts a mere twenty seconds at best, once achieved a vampire's climax is unending. It's a wonder they ever stop. Like a vice, Rose's legs are wrapped tightly around Emmett's hips and his hands are roughly kneading and molding her shapely ass. Consumed by his own release Emmett grunts and wildly thrusts into her repeatedly, over and over again. Together they've reached their ultimate destination … their very own nirvana.

Edward loudly clears his throat and averts his eyes from the disturbing image in front of him. It's one thing to hear those two go at it constantly, it's quite another to actually witness it first hand. The two continue to carry on 'in flagrante delicto' as if he wasn't even there. Incensed by their shenanigans and lack of respect to common decency, Edward plunges himself across the small battlefield, landing on top of Emmett knocking him flat on his ass. Rose is momentarily baffled as to why she's still pinned against the wall until she feels an invisible hand wrapped around her neck.

"Bella, put me down!" Rose shrieks as she haphazardly kicks to break free from her sister's strong hold.

"Gladly." When Bella withdraws her hand Rose crashes down to the ground but quickly rebounds to her feet.

"Reveal yourself!" Rose cries and crouches down into a protective stance. "You don't fight fair!"

"And you do?" Bella hisses. Releasing her shield and exposing herself, she braces for Rose's imminent attack.

Edward is sitting astride Emmett's stomach with his arms pinned to his sides. Furiously struggling to unseat him, Emmett bucks and twists from side to side, to no avail. No matter what he does, because of his brother's advantage, Edward is always two steps ahead of whatever move he makes.

"If you weren't my brother, so help me I'd rip you apart right now, limb by limb, piece by piece!" Edward says, his voice dripping with venom. "Once again Emmett, you are responsible for ruining what precious little time Bella and I have to get to know our children. And now Robert believes that I'm some sort of perverted, disease-infested, kinky wife-swapping, cock lover!"

"Waa … waa … waa … cry me a river …" Emmett mockingly cries. "I warned you not to fuck with me, didn't I brother?"

The second Rose pounces and is in mid-air; Bella raises her shield and rolls off to the side effectively avoiding her attack. Angered by Bella's advantage and not knowing where she is, Rose spins, punching and wildly flailing her arms and by chance, she strikes Bella sending her sailing against the wall.

**BOOM!**

Leaving another gaping hole in the wall, Bella bounces back and like the predator she is, starts circling Rose. Her eyes darting around the room, Rose sniffs the air and listens for any clues as to Bella's whereabouts. Sensing that she is directly behind her, Rose spins and grabs … the air. Off to her left she can hear Bella snickering. In a nanosecond Rose jumps high in the air and lands on top of … a sink. Furious, she lets out a feral cry and gives chase, blindly running in circles around the room. Bella watches her in amusement as she stands invisible next to Edward.

"That's enough!" Carlisle says in a short-clipped voice, standing in the doorway with Esme. _Unbelievable! _

"But …" Emmett whines.

Carlisle's steely reproaching gaze cuts him off mid-sentence.

"I've never been more ashamed of my offspring than I am right now," Esme cries as her hand darts to her mouth and masks her horror. _How could they?_

Almost immediately Edward let's go of Emmett and Bella releases her shield. Rose joins her siblings in the center of the room. Each one stands with their heads hung low in shame as not one of them would ever purposely want to disappoint Esme.

"We'll discuss this later." Carlisle sadly shakes his head. "The military is about to send in a bomb squad. We have to get out of here now. Follow me."

Faster than a speeding bullet shot from a machine gun, the six vampires narrowly escape out the service entrance and run at blinding speeds down Chicago's dark streets and alleys until reaching the relative safety of the warehouse down by the shipping docks.

~BtBB~

Relieved that the foul mood that Robert was in when they abruptly left the ballroom has finally passed, Kristen draws a deep breath and closes her eyes, gripping the bed sheets with her fists. Her long dark hair is splayed across her pillow as Robert swivels and moves his hips, thrusting deep into her warm moist walls, mindful to hit her sensitive spot before pulling back and repeating it yet again. Always the considerate and consummate lover, Robert purposefully withholds taking his own pleasure until his wife finds hers. Feeling her inner muscles begin to tighten and constrict around his hardened manhood, he picks up the pace thrusting harder and faster until he sends her spiraling over the edge screaming out his name. Then and only then, does he let go and follow suit.

This was supposed to have been a fun, carefree night out with family and friends before Robert was to report for duty the following day. At least it started out that way. Kristen wonders what could possibly have happened to change it. Wisely, she decides that now is not the best time to bring up the subject. It's obvious to her that Robert is thoroughly spent and completely exhausted. Turning over on his side, he pulls her back to his front and nuzzles the back of her neck with his facial scruff and closes his eyes.

"I love you," Robert whispers tenderly in her ear.

"I love you more," Kristen replies, reassured by their daily exchange of devotion.

"Not possible," he adds while yawning.

"It is …" she whispers tenderly. "You'll be my first thought when I wake and the last before I close my eyes at night. I will keep you close to my heart … always and forever."

"Forever …" Robert mumbles as sleep claims him.

* * *

**A/N: Edward certainly got a little taste of what it's like to be on the other side of the parent-child relationship when he stepped in and decided to bring Eddie and Sandra home, didn't he? Do you think he made the right choice in letting Gerald go? How about his NOT telling Seagull or Sandra what their teenagers had been up to? Was that the right call? Seems like Carlisle and Esme have their own difficulty keeping their brood in line … naughty vampires!**

**Hope you are enjoying this story so far … just a reminder that I have tweaked a few of the vampire gifts which you see in this chapter with Bella… hope you enjoyed it. There is much more to come. As always, I'd love to hear your comments and try to answer any questions you may have. **


	5. Chapter Four

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: I've learned over the years that no one, and I mean no one, has the 'perfect' family. As humans we're all flawed. And as for vampires, well, perhaps they're not so perfect after all. **

**Thanks Beta T, Lovin Rob for just being you and for doing all that you do.**

* * *

Hey, diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon.

The little dog laughed

To see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Chapter Four

Mrs. Browning was in a tizzy, even more so than she normally was. Muttering to herself as she fluttered from the kitchen to the dining room and then back again. She was insisting that everything be absolutely perfect for the surprise mid-morning brunch her employer, Mrs. Swan, and Mrs. Davis had planned for Robert's big send-off, doubly so as she had a particular soft spot for him ever since he was a small boy. Some things die hard and while the brunch wasn't intended to be a formal sit-down but a self-serve 'buffet-style' as Mrs. Swan called it, she had still given the elegant dining room a thorough cleaning and even polished all the silver.

The dining room hadn't changed much since Elizabeth Masen decorated its walls in timeless bold, rich colors of cranberry and mahogany wainscoting over three decades ago. Ivory plaster crown moldings covered the parameter of the raised ceiling. Several of the oil paintings prominently showcased were now considered to be quite valuable as Elizabeth had the uncanny ability to recognize the works of brilliant and talented upcoming artists. The exquisite cut-crystal chandelier hung low over the solid mahogany table. Crisp white linen napkins and the family's fine china were temporarily stacked neatly on top. There were nine hand-carved high-back chairs with ivory padded cushions along each side of the table with another two at the ends for a total of twenty chairs in all.

Mrs. Browning rubs her chin and audibly sighs while giving the dining room the 'once over'. _Where is that man? Just like I've always said, 'if you want something done, you have to do it yourself'. Speak of the devil … _

Seconds later she hears the sound of her husband, Cedric's footsteps shuffling down the hallway and runs out to assist him. With his 6'5" frame and hers barely reaching 5', they make a rather strange looking pair. He is precariously balancing a heavy wooden folding table, carefully so as not to put a gouge in the wall that he'd later have to repair. As they maneuver it inside the dining room, she loses her grip on her end resulting in one of the table legs to swing out and crash through a French door glass panel. Momentarily stunned, neither one moves an inch. Cedric lets out a sigh and carefully lowers his end of the table, propping it against the doorframe before tucking in the stray leg and carrying it the rest of the way into the room by himself.

"Oh my!" his wife cries, her hand flying up to her mouth. "This is terrible. I am such a klutz!"

After setting up the wooden table beside the buffet, he comforts his flustered and now distraught wife. "Don't worry about it Ruth, I can fix that," he soothingly says, pulling her into an embrace. "I thank the Lord that you weren't hurt."

Her hand tenderly touches her husband's thin cheek. "What would I do without you?"

"I pray you'll never have to know the answer to that question, my dear." Tilting her chin up, he lowers himself and plants a chaste kiss on her lips.

Clara, having heard the commotion from her bedroom directly above, comes running in but abruptly halts when noticing the broken glass scattered on the floor.

"Heavens! Are you alright?" she looks from one to the other with genuine concern.

Mrs. Browning stammers apologetically, "My hand slipped … I'm very sorry. Of course we'll pay for the damages."

"Nonsense, accidents happen," Clara says and backtracks her steps into the hallway. "I'll get the broom."

Half an hour later, the broken glass having been removed, both Clara and Renee assist Mrs. Browning. They set the chafing dishes and the coffee and hot water carafes on the top of the wooden folding table after placing a white linen table cloth underneath. Glancing at the clock on the wall that reads nine o'clock, Mrs. Browning releases a sigh of relief. Everything is now ready for their guests to arrive.

Yawning as she descends the staircase on her way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, Elena alters her course and walks through the large circular foyer when hearing a series of knocks at the front door. Waiting patiently on the doorstep is Caleb Thornton and his wife, Christine as well as Tillie holding baby Douglas and her children, Arthur and Isabella, standing by her side. Walking up the front entrance steps is Kat along with Reverend Monaghan and his wife, Lauren. Elena had completely forgotten about her grandma and Aunt Clara's surprise shindig for Robert. She is relieved that she decided to wear a dress and apply her make-up before coming downstairs. But her relief is short-lived when she remembers that she was supposed to have told Kristen about it yesterday but got sidetracked when the telephone rang with an important call for her sister-in-law and then again later when they had all gone out to the Aragon Ballroom.

Elena greets their guests as they walk inside with a tentative smile. "Good morning, so nice of you to come." Quickly turning to her cousin, she asks, "Tillie, would you mind leading the way to the parlor? There is something I need to do."

"I know the way Elena." Four-year old Isabella says in a sweet voice. "May I show them?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart. I keep forgetting what a big girl you are. Thank you for offering."

Giving her mother's namesake a quick hug, Elena heads for the stairs. In two shakes of a lamb's tail, Kat catches up to her and grabs her upper arm.

"Oh no you don't, Elena Marie Masen … not until you tell me what's wrong and don't you dare tell me that everything is fine. I know you too well."

"That was awful nice of Skip to bring you home last night," Elena off-handedly comments. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Oh no you don't," Kat stammers and blushes, "I asked you first. That's so typical of you to try and side-step the question."

"Well if you must know the future of my relationship with my new sister-in-law is at stake," Elena answers, shaking free of Kat's claws. "I have to let Kristen know what she'll be walking into downstairs this morning or she'll never forgive me."

Kat lets out a hearty laugh and calls out as she watches Elena take the steps, two at a time, "You might want to knock first …"

"Very funny." Turning her head, Elena playfully sticks out her tongue at her best friend. "We're not done Kat. I expect a full report later."

The doorbell rings and Kat squeals with delight when greeting several of their mutual high school pals who also served as ushers at Robert and Kristen's wedding. There is Greg Peterson and his pretty new wife, Helen, as well as Michael Kaminski and his girlfriend Joan Mathers and flying solo, John Stillman. All three boys have enlisted and will soon be leaving for parts unknown.

Halfway up the staircase Elena almost collides with Skip who is on his way down. To avoid an imminent collision, Skip quickly swivels to the side and backs himself against the wall.

"Hey Elena," he calls after her as she breezes by. "I'm right here darling … you can turn around now. No need to look any further."

"In your dreams Skip …" she chuckles. Try as she may, Elena can't help but find his non-stop flirtations both amusing and annoying. _When is he going to give up?_

"Precisely," he mutters to himself.

Standing outside her brother's bedroom on the third floor, Elena hesitates before knocking. Pressing her ear up against the door, she listens closely for any sign to indicate that they've risen. The last thing she wants is to disturb their sleep or worse yet … to be the cause of 'coitus interruptus'. _Something I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate. _Unfortunately the door isn't completely latched and it swings open. To her complete horror, a most startling vision unfolds before she can avert her eyes. As they are otherwise preoccupied, Elena is relieved when neither Robert nor Kristen seem to take notice of her. Turning a deep shade of crimson and with her eyes downcast, she quietly reaches for the doorknob and shuts the door.

_What the hell were they doing anyway? _

Hurrying off to her bedroom on the second floor, she makes a point of closing and locking her door. After the two-year illicit tryst she had had with her older professor, she thought she'd been fully educated in all areas of sexual pleasures but never, ever had Warren done to her what she just witnessed her brother doing to his wife.

_Kristen wasn't exactly complaining … hmm _

To help expunge the disturbing image imbedded in her head, she grabs a sheet of her personal stationary from inside her desk drawer and quickly scribbles.

_**Dear Kristen, please be sure that you and Robbie are fully dressed and in your Sunday best before coming downstairs for breakfast. You might want to do your hair and put on some make-up too. ~Elena~**_

Folding the note in half, she slips it underneath her brother's bedroom door before quickly heading back down the staircase. _Message delivered …_

**.**

**.**

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Kristen frowns. _I wish I could make this moment last forever … _Having made love yet again; Rob wraps his arms around her tightly while she quickly calculates how much time they have left together. In three hours, he'll be gone and she'll have to somehow manage without him. The very idea is unfathomable to her. They've been inseparable for the past three years; day and night, night and day. But from the moment that Rob and Skip informed her that they had done their patriotic duty and enlisted rather than wait for their draft notices, Kristen has been dreading this day.

Audibly sighing, Kristen knows it goes back even further than that; December 7, 1941 to be precise – 'a date that will live in infamy' according to President Roosevelt. For it was on that day that the course of their lives, as well as those of their entire generation was forever altered when, taken by surprise, the Japanese dropped their bombs on eight American battleships, sinking four and crippling the Navy's Pacific fleet while stationed at Pearl Harbor. Over two thousand Americans, both military and civilians, had perished that day. It was then that she knew the United States could no longer sit on the sidelines and remain neutral.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and shave before we head downstairs," Robert informs her. Kissing her forehead, he rolls out of bed. "Care to join me?"

"You and I both know that if I do, we won't be leaving this room anytime soon," she says while stretching her limbs. She watches him meander to the adjoining bathroom wearing nothing but his spectacular birthday suit. _What a fine specimen of a man my husband is. I am a very lucky woman. _

_So this is Rob's childhood bedroom. _Leisurely rising, she slowly skirts the perimeter of the large room. Having only been here less than twenty-four hours, she spends the next few minutes taking a closer look around. It is a stately room, quite masculine in its furnishings and décor. _It's way too formal for my liking. _Dark cherry hardwood flooring encompasses the entire room. There are three, floor to ceiling windows on the far wall draped in a steel gray fabric. An antique roll top desk with a matching swivel chair is to the left of the fireplace and there are two cranberry upholstered Queen Anne chairs placed in front with a small end table situated in between. Several bookcases crammed with books line the wall opposite the large spindled bed and rows of wall shelves hold mementos from Robert's childhood. _ Finally, something that shows a boy once lived here …_

There is an autographed baseball from the Saint Louis Cardinals dated 1929 … a trophy from his High School team when they won the regional basketball championship his Senior year and another naming him MVP of their baseball team. There is a framed photograph of a very young Rob standing beside his grandpa Charlie proudly holding a foot long fish and several others with him and Elena throughout the years. There's one other framed picture that catches her eye. Picking it up, Kristen dusts it off before looking at it more closely. It's a sepia-colored photograph of a couple, a very handsome couple and it's obvious from their body language that they are very much in love. _This must be Rob's parents! _In the picture his mother is quite young and extraordinarily beautiful. _Of course she is! _She is wearing a floor-length gown that clings to her every curve. Mid-thigh it flares out resembling an inverted calla lily. Her hair is swept up into an intricately braided tapestry gathered at the top of her head like a crown and a small and delicate tiara adorned with dozens of diamonds lay in front. _Oh my! It's the same tiara I wore on my wedding day! _She stares at Rob's father, comparing him to her husband. _He is a carbon copy of his son … only younger. _He looks resplendent in his black tuxedo with white winged-tip collar shirt, black bow tie and a handkerchief partially tucked inside his front lapel. It fits him like a glove. He is clean-shaven and his hair is neatly cut and slicked back as was the style back then.

Placing the old picture frame back on the shelf, Kristen notices the note on the floor by the door and picks it up before heading over to the closet and slipping on her navy pinstriped dress. While brushing and tying her hair back into a ponytail, a troubling thought nags at her and she racks her brain trying to sort it out as she applies her mascara and cherry-colored lipstick.

_Why do his mother and father look so familiar to me? _

She shakes her head and answers her own question.

_Of course stupid, it's because Rob is the spitting image of his father. He has his frame and his perfect facial features and Elena … well Elena is petite and equally as beautiful as her mom was. But still… _

**.**

**.**

Mrs. Browning places the platter of scrambled eggs and bacon into the chafing dishes and hurries out of the dining room passing their guests who are on their way inside. The mouthwatering aroma of cinnamon buns, Robert's favorite, is emanating from down the hallway. Quickly she rushes to retrieve them from the oven before they burn.

On their way to join the others, Robert steals a warm frosted bun from Mrs. Browning's basket and pries a chunk off with his fingers. Lasciviously he grins at his bride.

"Open," he orders wielding the delectable morsel towards her mouth.

Dutifully Kristen obeys, her face contorting with pleasure as the bun melts on her tongue. "This is, without a doubt, sinfully decadent but I love it and I love you."

Robert swoops down and licks the excess frosting from the sides of her lips before turning to Mrs. Browning.

"Any chance I can persuade you to send these to me while I'm away Mrs. B?" Flashing one of his heart-stopping smiles, he adds, "Something to remind me of home."

"Anything for you Robert …" As tears well up, she reaches for her handkerchief inside her apron pocket. Overcome by her emotions, she darts back into the kitchen.

Skip is the first to notice the newlyweds standing in the doorway. "Thank goodness you're both here! I drew the short straw and if you two hadn't shown in five minutes, I was to go and drag you out of your bed. Not a prospect I was looking forward to, I assure you."

"He's joking," Renee chuckles. "Actually, it was Samuel who drew the short straw."

Laughter and cheers erupt as Seagull gives a comical wave. Sarah shakes her head and rolls her eyes at him while their children sink lower in their chairs.

"Please fill your plates and take a seat," Clara says, steering Robert and Kristen towards the buffet table. "Pastor Monaghan was about to say grace."

Elena quickly gets up and rushes over. "I'm so glad you found my note. I'm sorry. I was supposed to inform you about the brunch yesterday but it completely skipped my mind."

"So that explains why you were standing inside our bedroom gawking at us," Robert says, his brow raised mischievously. Leaning down to her level he grins and says in a teasing manner reserved only for siblings, "So tell me, did you learn anything?"

"Rob!" Kristen exclaims. "Can't you see that you're embarrassing her … and me?" Turning to her mortified sister-in-law she explains, "After we arrived from our Lake Geneva honeymoon yesterday, your grandma took me aside and informed me of her surprise but thank you anyway."

"Oh …" Elena mouths, flustered and thoroughly embarrassed.

Robert quickly adds, "You know, Elena, you weren't the only one who used to frequent grandma's closet to look through our mother's things," he says casually as he begins to pile food on his plate. "You'd be surprised by some of the things I found."

He thinks back to when he was seven or maybe eight years old and how he discovered a tightly wrapped parcel hidden behind one of the boxes on the top shelf. Curiosity having gotten the better of him, he brought it back to his own room before opening it and when he did he discovered a little black book with gold lettering on its front cover. Before he could even turn the first page the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted him and so he quickly hid it under a loose floorboard beneath his bed. _It certainly came in handy later … _

A surge of anger course through Elena, replacing the embarrassment she felt only seconds ago. She comes up to him; leaning in close so only he could hear.

"You mean to tell me that you knew? All this time you knew what I was doing in her closet? Why didn't you ever say anything?" She says a little louder than intended.

"The same reason you never told me." Averting his eyes from her penetrating gaze, his voice softens. "We both needed time alone with her … with our mother. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot last night Lena. That was a shitty thing to do."

"Yes it was." Throwing her arms around her brother's neck, she holds him close to her as he sets his plate down. "I hate that you're leaving … promise that you'll come back. I couldn't bear to lose my little brother …" her voice breaks and she wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. "I love you Robbie."

Wishing he could assuage her fears, he continues to hold her. "I love you too sis."

Upon releasing her, he looks at each one of his family and friends who have gathered to say goodbye to him to find that there is hardly a dry eye in the room. Each one of them is near and dear to his heart.

Tugging on her mother's sleeve, Isabella innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, "Why is everyone so sad mama?"

"Because Cousin Robert and his friends are going to be away for a little while," Tillie replies.

"Like daddy and Uncle George?" she says, her eyes widening with comprehension. Her mother nods. Pushing her chair back, she walks over to Robert who then scoops her into his arms. "Can you give my daddy a message for me?"

"If I see him Bella, of course I will," Robert promises but knows the probability of that happening is slim to none. After all Douglas is stationed somewhere in the Pacific fighting the Japanese and he will be sent over to Europe to assist their allies in defeating the Third Reich.

This time she speaks quietly when placing her hand firmly over his ear. Closing his eyes as she talks, he then kisses her cheek and lowers her back down when she's finished. Skipping back to her chair she is all smiles. Kristen gives him a questioning expression when noticing his mouth has set into a thin line. A quick shake of his head tells her that this isn't the time or place. Rubbing his hands together, he instantly changes the somber mood when he casts his beaming smile.

"Everything looks delicious. You've really outdone yourselves grandma, Aunt Clara," he says appreciatively and picks up his plate again. "You too Mrs. B," he adds and winks when seeing her standing in the doorway.

"Let us bow our heads." Monk says, standing at the foot of the table and says a silent prayer for the associate pastor who is filling in for him on this Sunday morning. He begins once everyone has been seated.

"Dear Lord, as You prepared breakfast for Your disciples upon the shore of Galilee, so truly have You prepared this breakfast for us, Your children. We thank You for Your thought of us, so kind and so unceasing. We would go through. All this day in thoughts of You. Help us to do an honest day's work that will make You proud. We ask that You send your angels to watch over Robert, Louis, Michael, John and Greg as they bravely serve our country. In Your name. Amen

Always one to have the last word, Seagull adds, "Yeah, Lord, please keep Spunk's son and his friends safe and out of harm's way. Amen"

Eddie's ears perk up. _Nah, he couldn't mean the same Spunk. Robert's dad is dead and the Spunk I met is too young to have a grown son. Must be a common nickname. _

**.**

**.**

For the next hour the conversation is easy and flows freely. Feeling like a ping-pong ball Robert tries to keep up with the many conversations being discussed around the table. His two godfather's; the pastor, Uncle Frank, and the politician, Uncle Sam as he fondly refers to them, are arguing which baseball teams are going to make it all the way to the World Series come Fall. Uncle Frank insists it'll be the Chicago Cubs and the Detroit Tigers while Uncle Sam is equally adamant that it won't be. When Robert offers his own opinion and suggests that perhaps the New York Yankees and the Saint Louis Cardinals will be there instead, they openly laugh at him, harder still when he predicts the Cardinals will be the ultimate victor.

Skip is hanging on every word as he quizzes Kristen about the details of the offer their agent, Barry Klein called her about yesterday. Out of hundreds of talented young women who auditioned Kristen has been selected to play the part of Ellie May, the eighteen-year old daughter of impoverished tobacco farmers in the Broadway play 'Tobacco Road' that is scheduled to open at the Forrest Theatre in September.

Skip is shaking his head in disbelief. "I cannot believe you turned down the role. Are you fucking crazy?"

Tillie gives Skip a reproachful glare. "Need I remind you that there are impressionable young children present?"

"Sorry, Tillie," Skip says having been duly chastised.

Lauren and Sarah are ignoring the conversation going on around them and are instead admiring the many hand-embroidered tablecloths and napkins that grandma, Aunt Clara and Tillie have been busy working on for the auction at the upcoming church picnic, the proceeds of which will be donated to the American Red Cross. As the pastor's wife, Lauren praises their efforts and assures them that their work will be prominently displayed as she cradles baby Douglas with obvious longing.

Arthur and Isabella are keeping themselves occupied by trying to get a rise out of Shadrach, Elena's fat gray tabby who is curled up in the farthest corner of the room napping. Waiving a fake mouse on a string repeatedly back and forth directly in front of his nose, he purposefully feigns indifference by not lifting his head off of the floor. Appearing to be more bored than the cat are Eddie and Sandra who are openly glowering at their parents for having dragged them from their beds at an ungodly hour after being up half the night.

Caleb is excitedly giving Elena the run-down, letting her know what to expect on Monday morning when she joins Masen and McGuire as a full-time partner. Retiring in another month, he assures her that he'll be by her side for the next several weeks to help ease her into her new role or until she no longer needs him.

"But I'll always need you Caleb," Elena insists. "I don't know if I'm ready for this major step as I've only worked there on school breaks as an intern. The way I see it I already have three strikes against me; my youth, my sex and my birthright. What if no one will listen to me?"

Caleb tosses his head back and laughs. "You're exactly what the firm needs Elena. I've gone over some of your sound business proposals for growth and how best to lead the firm into the future and they are quite good and very innovative. Your youthful enthusiasm is an asset not a hindrance. Your arrival will be a breath of fresh air blowing through the staid and stagnant constraints of antiquated inertia that presently sits at the helm." _Ian McGuire … cocky, arrogant, sob _… He looks at Elena thoughtfully before continuing, "And as far as your name, never be ashamed of where you come from. Your family has successfully helmed this business for decades and will continue with you. I am proud to have worked for your grandfather and father, brief as it was, and am leaving knowing that you will carry that legacy exceptionally well."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Elena offers him a hug.

"Heavens!" All fired up, Christine can no longer remain silent. "We're almost in the middle of the twentieth century Elena. Should we as women continue to be satisfied with our status as second-class citizens? Getting the vote was only the beginning!"

"Our days of being barefoot and pregnant and being told that our place is in the home are over and done with and I say hallelujah! Amen! Thank you Lord!" Kat shouts and then shoots the pastor a repentant 'sorry' before continuing.

"Who do you think are filling the many jobs left vacant while our men are off at war? Equality between the sexes must start in the workplace." Kat emphasizes with a zealous passion worthy of a true suffragette. "And as your assistant, so help me if I hear anyone bad mouthing you because you're a woman they'll have me to deal with."

Kristen stands and starts clapping wildly. "Bravo! Well said."

"Does this mean you've decided to go to New York after all," Robert asks, his voice hopeful. "It's not too late to call Barry and tell him that you've come to your senses and reconsidered accepting the role. He did say he was giving you twenty-four hours to think it over before he has to contact the casting agent."

"No I haven't changed my mind. New York was _our _dream Rob and it doesn't feel right to me going on without you," Kristen says firmly. "Besides by staying here, I'll have the chance to get to know my new family better."

"Don't worry Robert. We'll take good care of her," Renee promises and wraps her arms around Kristen. _Such a sweet girl… She reminds me of my own daughter … my dear Bella. _

"That's nice grandma but Kristen _is_ going to New York," Robert says, equally as adamant. "Don't put your life on hold for me. Live the dream for both of us."

Shadrach, having had enough of Isabella and George's inane antics, lifts his large belly off of the floor and slowly stretches, first his front paws and then his rear legs before arching his back high in the air. His luminous green eyes scan the room strategically planning his point of escape. Sensing that the kitty is about to bolt, Arthur immediately darts over to the French doors and closes them shut. He then takes a step back and smiles to himself, satisfied that he has out-maneuvered the feline only to helplessly watch as Shadrach casually strolls right through the glassless panel with his tail puffed out in triumph. _Meow!_

~BtBB~

Detecting the scent of his prey in the air, Edward's nostrils flare as he easily pinpoints its precise location. The promise of the deer's thick nectar coating his parched throat when he latches his razor-sharp teeth into its flesh propels him forward. Though the animal's blood will never completely obliterate his body's natural craving like the blood of the two hikers nearby it will have to suffice. It's a choice he made a long time ago and one he doesn't regret making. Abstinence has given him the ability to hold onto a part of his humanity and live amongst them, something he'd never be able to do otherwise. It also made it possible for him to get to know his precious children … _Robert and Elena. _

The waking forest momentarily silences and collectively holds its breath as he races by. All wildlife including rabbits, raccoons, squirrels and even birds exhale with marked relief only after nature's ultimate predators have past. As the trio closes in on the herd grazing inside a small clearing, Edward hears Emmett's booming voice echoing inside his head.

_You're too slow brother … eat my dust! _

_You've got to be kidding me …_

Emmett surges past Edward to take down the first deer and he's none too neat about it either. Large chunks of flesh are being ripped from its throat and Emmett's face and hands are drenched with blood. Edward glances over at Carlisle who is staring at Emmett with revulsion over his total lack of table manners. Before the rest of the herd scatters and disappears into the forest, both he and Carlisle easily capture their own prey and begin to feast. All too soon the deer is lying limp in Edward's arms as he continues to siphon its life force. This, having been his third conquest of the morning, takes him by surprise when his thirst flares yet again.

_Nothing seems to quench it … _

Carlisle quietly calls out to his boys; "I'd like to have a word with you two before we head back." Knowing they can hear him from across the field, he talks in a normal tone of voice. "Things between you two are going to have to change. A little rivalry is all well and good but after last night … well … that was a real eye-opener. I won't allow either of you to upset Esme like that again. It worries us both that if you continue down this egregious path that our family will be torn apart. I don't know if Esme would ever be able to recover should that happen. She loves you both very much as do I. In every way that counts, you are _our sons_."

_Edward … I ask that you be the bigger person and extend the olive branch to Emmett. Please son … much is at stake. _

Emmett and Edward are both staring uncomfortably at the ground in front of their father, looking at anything other than each other or at him. Having been thoroughly chastised for their less than exemplary conduct, they now appear to be contrite and shamed as they mull about his words.

"I'm going to leave you two here to work it out." Audibly sighing, he then adds before taking off for home, "Don't bother coming back until you do."

_What do you say Edward? Care to bury the hatchet ..._

"Interesting choice of words … brother."

**.**

**.**

Armed with the Sunday Tribune under his arm, Carlisle wearily climbs the five flights of stairs up to his and Esme's flat. He prays that when he opens the door, Esme will have finally calmed down. He'd never seen her as agitated as she had been last night. Nothing he said or did seemed to have much of an effect on her. After pacing the floors for hours on end, she informed him that she needed some air and asked to be left alone. Helplessly he watched as the woman he loves and adores walked out the door. Esme still hadn't returned when he dragged a sulking Emmett and a still-furious Edward out with him to hunt before the dawn broke.

Bracing himself, he turns the doorknob and steps inside. Much to his surprise he finds Esme seated at the table between Rose and Bella and the three of them are chatting and laughing as if nothing had happened and they hadn't a care in the world. Puzzled by the turn-around but considerably relieved he leans down and places a tender kiss on Esme's lips. Tossing the newspaper on top of the table, he extends his other arm from behind his back to present her with a lovely bouquet of fragrant spring flowers.

Her face lights up. "Oh you dear sweet man!" Showering him with kisses, she rises and removes a crystal vase from the glass hutch and fills it with tap water from the kitchen sink. "I don't know how I'm going to manage without you darling."

Carlisle's every instinct is telling him not to bring up the events of the previous night and spoil this moment. Whatever Esme has said to Rose and Bella seems to have done the trick. Normally those two can barely stand to be in the same room yet here they are … acting like they're the best of friends. _How odd … I don't think I'll ever truly understand women. _

Suddenly the door bursts open and inside marches Emmett and Edward, side by side with their hands tightly wrapped like a vice around each other's shoulders and smiles plastered on their faces. Having been drenched in blood from hunting, Emmett was a sight before but now … now he is positively disheveled. For that matter so is Edward. Carlisle hadn't left them in this sorry state. Their hair is matted and their skin and clothes are caked with mud. Emmett's shirt no longer has any sleeves and Edward's long pants are now a tattered pair of shorts.

Esme once again brightens upon seeing her two sons. "Oh good, you're back. Please take a seat. The girls and I have been talking and we've come to a decision …"

_What is wrong with this picture? _Carlisle asks himself feeling confused … pleased nonetheless but completely and utterly befuddled. Are Edward and Emmett now as close as Siamese twins? Have Rose and Bella finally decided to act like sisters? And what about Esme … has she gone off the deep end or does she deserve the Nobel Peace prize? He's almost afraid to ask what it is that the girls have decided. Originally he planned to sit down with his family and discuss the circumstances that led to last night's disaster but now he's not so sure that he should. _Maybe I'd better let this go? _He glances down at the newspaper headline once more …

**EXPLOSION AT THE ARAGON BALLROOM! **

**THOUSANDS FLEE IN A PANIC! **

**WHO IS RESPONSIBLE? **

**WAS IT AN ACT OF WAR OR A CRUEL PRANK?**

… and turns the paper over vowing to have his banker send an anonymous donation to the club owners to cover the cost of his children's temper tantrum.

Carlisle looks up to find Edward nodding at him in full agreement.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this close-knit family time as it's over ... for now. Onward I say … **

**I'll repeat my weekly plea in the hope that the many Shadrach's out there reading will finally get up and leave me their comments and/or questions in the form of a review. **_**Meow! **_


	6. Chapter Five

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: The moment has finally arrived. Our boys are off to serve their country. I'm so proud of them … I think. **

**Thanks to my Beta T, LovinRob! You are the best!**

* * *

Three blind mice! See how they run!

They all ran after the farmer's wife,

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.

Did you ever see such a thing in your life

As three blind mice?

Chapter Five

Edward sighs. _And so it begins …_

Clutching their small duffle bags that contain their personal belongings, Edward and Carlisle follow the procession of young men streaming into Fort Sheridan. Having said their goodbyes to Bella and Esme out in the parking lot both men fall silent. Separating from one's mate proves to be a far more difficult task than Edward or Carlisle anticipated and not just for the girls. Knowing they'll be apart for an indefinite amount of time has made it that much harder. But what neither he nor Carlisle has failed to consider is whether it is _even possible _for them to stay away from their mates for an extended period of time.

Unlike humans who often cheat on their partner, divorce their spouse or remarry after being widowed, once a vampire commits to their mate it is quite literally … _**forever**_. Edward had discovered this first hand. The marital vows that he and Bella exchanged while he was human carried over after his transformation to immortal. Remaining true to her, he was unable to satisfy even his own sexual desires. Believing they could never be together his mind had initially closed itself off to all thoughts of her. Whenever that barrier slipped it had caused him great emotional duress and physical pain. That is until he finally came to terms with who he was and what he had become. It was only then that he dared to hope for the possibility of more with Bella.

Carlisle had driven the entire way to the Army base with one eye on the road and one hand on the wheel. His other arm was secured around Esme's shoulder and he held her close to him, leaning over and kissing her frequently. Not that he and Bella practiced self-restraint. In fact their behavior in the car was rather risqué even for them. Deftly Bella unzipped his pants and slid her hand inside his boxers. Nonchalantly she stroked his prominent member … slowly up his long, thick shaft giving a squeeze and a twist over his knob before working her way back down again, only to do it again and again until his body shuddered with pleasure. Afterwards, it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to pin her down to the back seat and bury himself deep inside of her. Even now, just thinking about her was causing him considerable distress. _My Bella _

_I can hardly believe this is really working … its incredible! Do you understand what this means Edward? The implications for our kind are far-reaching …_

Immersed in his lust-filled thoughts as they walked, Edward didn't notice Carlisle blatantly staring at him, his face and hands in particular being that they were the only parts of his body unclothed. What was extraordinary was that nothing out of the ordinary was happening when the sunlight touched his flesh.

Being vampires there were several major obstacles they needed to address before joining the military, the most obvious one being exposure to the sun. An immortals skin, when kissed by the sun's rays, casts a luminous mother of pearl sheen; similar to a multi-faceted cut diamond and if witnessed by human eyes, would surely cause them considerable alarm. Buried in his medical and folklore books over the past few weeks, Carlisle had been researching possible ways in which they could hide their alienness. Just when it seemed all but impossible an unlikely idea took root in the back of his mind and he began to formulate a hypothesis. Using himself as a guinea pig Carlisle discovered that a simple household product found in most medicine cabinets might very well be the solution to their dilemma; iodine. The very same iodine that mothers often apply to their children's scraped knees and cuts. One drop on the tongue before hunting and combined with their prey's blood when it infiltrates their system gives their pasty white flesh a warm hue and masks their shine. The effect is instantaneous. Carlisle then tried it on Edward with the same promising results. The only thing Carlisle isn't exactly sure of is how long its effectiveness will last.

"I hope you have a back-up plan if this backfires," Edward comments, his attention turning to the rail-thin recruit struggling to carry both his over-stuffed duffle bag slung over his shoulder while also dragging a trunk large enough to hide a small body.

_I suppose we could always feign illness and be sent to the infirmary but that could create other problems … especially when they try to take our vitals. I'll have to give this some more thought._

A few tough-looking guys step forward and seize the opportunity to tease and poke fun at the young man before he can make it inside the building. Like vultures swooping in for the kill, they circle around and heckle him.

"Hey man, what the hell do you have inside that thing?"

"You know they won't let you keep it, don't you numb nuts?"

The young man pretends not to hear their snide comments and instead attempts to circumvent around them while a beefy, heavily muscled recruit blocks his path by stepping in front of him. Knocking the young man's baseball cap with his large bicep, he snickers as it falls to the ground. Dramatically, he lifts his leg and stomps on it with the ball of his foot.

"We're talking to you little boy!"

"Pick it up!"

Others are starting to gather around to watch and just as Edward is about to step in and intervene, the scrawny young man surprises everyone, including his tormentors, by dropping his baggage and raising his hands in front of him ready to defend himself by fisticuffs if need be. Eyes darkening, his face sets in steely determination.

"Ohh, I'm so afraid," he scoffs. "Go ahead … give it your best shot. I dare you but I should warn you that I spar regularly at the same gym that Joe Louis does."

The heavyweight chuckles and draws his arm back before throwing all of his strength into his punch only to the have the lightweight dart like a gazelle out of his reach. He stumbles forward and takes another swing with the same results … and again … and yet again. Bobbing and weaving Goliath simply isn't fast enough for David's lithe footwork. It's comical to watch and soon the crowd is cheering for the little guy, especially after he lands a right hook to his opponent's cheek. Blood spurts out his nose and he pinches his nostrils together to try and stop the flow. Giving up, he angrily shakes his head and spits on the ground before hurrying off to rejoin his friends who have essentially abandoned him. With the excitement of the fight over and done, the crowd disburses and resumes marching forward.

Impressed by his bravery, Edward reaches down and retrieves his baseball cap and hands it back to him.

"I'm Henry," Edward says. "This is my cousin, Oliver." Carlisle nods.

"Butch," he replies, shaking his cap and placing it back on top of his head.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's in there?" Edward inquires. "They were right about one thing. They won't let you keep that trunk."

"We'll just see about that." Butch gives a mischievous wink and drags the trunk behind a hedgerow of nearby bushes. "My Uncle Bob is the Army base commander. My family lives on a farm just outside of Milwaukee and my mom, who just so happen to be his sister, sent me with a shitload of his favorite smoked sausages and cheeses; Cheddar, Muenster and Swiss to name a few. And it just so happens that I was able to squeeze in a few other necessities in case you're interested."

"Like what?" Edward asks, his curiosity now peaked.

Carlisle shakes his head and frowns. _We don't need any trouble. Walk way Edward. _Ignoring his father's advice, Edward leans forward and watches as Butch opens the trunk and begins piling his arms with blocks of cheese.

"It has a false bottom," Butch explains.

He lifts up the thin board and hidden underneath are a plethora of nude girly magazines, rubbers, cigarettes and cigars, several dozen cloth-wrapped bottles of Jack Daniels and metal flasks as well as other 'essential' items that will be hard to find once they step through the building doors.

"Listen Henry, if you can help me get this stuff inside, I'll cut you in, on say, ten percent of the profits."

"Twenty," Edward counters much to Carlisle's dismay.

Butch exhales through pursed lips and scratches his chin. "Fifteen and that's my final offer."

"Okay, deal." He and Butch shake hands. Edward notices that Butch flinches when making contact with his cool skin.

Taking Carlisle's duffle bag, Edward quickly transfers his few belongings into his father's bag and packs the contraband into his own. As heavy as it is, Edward is still able to lift it with ease and even help Butch carry the trunk up the building steps.

_I hope to God you know what you're doing son … _

**.**

**.**

Edward, Carlisle and Butch are the last ones in line at the Reception Battalion waiting their turn to be officially welcomed and embraced with open arms as soldiers into the United States Army. There they will each be assigned to one of four barracks with fifty recruits stationed in each. They'll also be given their regulation uniforms, fitness clothes, shoes and personal gear. And as luck would have it all three men are assigned to C-Company.

Recognizing the pretty young woman sitting at the front desk as being the same one he met last week, Edward flashes her one of his panty-poofing smiles, rendering her temporarily incoherent.

_Henry reminds me of Laurence Olivier … so dreamy! Why does he have to be married? And his friend … not the skinny runt next to him but the other one …oh my! He resembles Cary Grant. Maybe he's single …_

"It's Henry, right?" The young woman asks, trying to act nonchalant. Having previously memorized his chart, she knew very well who he was and could probably recite everything there is to know about him verbatim.

_If she only knew the truth about me, she'd be running out of here screaming at the top of her lungs. _

"Why yes it is, Miss Reynolds." Edward watches with wry amusement as her face lights up, all because he remembered her name.

Butch cuts in and says flirtatiously, "Hey baby, haven't we met before?" _Have I got a nice fat sausage for you to wrap your sweet lips around!_

Finding his lame one-liner unamusing she purposely ignores him and scan's Edward's file instead, making sure all of his papers are in order. Suddenly her demeanor changes when she sees his medical report. _Eww … he has gonorrhea and some sort of blood disorder! I'll bet its syphilis! What a scoundrel! His poor wife …_

Edward flinches. _Oh that's just perfect!_

Without looking Edward in the eye, she starts scribbling on a notepad and dismissively says, "Private Myers, you are to report to Dr. Morgan's office immediately after you get your head shaved." She hands him the note and points to her left. "Go down that corridor and it'll be the last door on your right. Next please."

**.**

**.**

Seated side-by-side, Carlisle grins as the two barbers in synchrony shave both his and Edward's heads leaving nothing but stubble.

_So much for hair dye and shoe polish. You're not nearly as handsome without the hair, Edward. I, on the other hand, look rather debonair. _

After liberally applying shaving cream to their faces and sideburns, barber number one flinches when, after accidentally nicking the side of Carlisle's chin with his razor blade, he doesn't bleed. He watches in astonishment as the wound immediately closes and heals itself.

_I didn't just see that … the blade must be dull. _

The barber breathes a sigh of relief when Carlisle steps down from his chair and gestures for the next recruit, Butch, to take a seat. In less than five minutes, the trio joins the rest of C-Company assembled outside in the courtyard. There is a fair amount of posturing and horseplay going on between the men – testosterone on overload – while they wait for whatever comes next. A handful of men surround Butch to congratulate him on his earlier victory and to ingratiate themselves into his service. Watching him operate its becoming increasingly apparent to Edward that in spite of his small stature, Butch is a natural born leader and also he can take care of himself.

Seeming to materialize out of nowhere, two soldiers rigidly march in unison towards the new recruits with their shoulders back and heads held high. One is half the size of the other. Both are meticulously dressed in full uniform complete with polished brass and shoes so shiny that their stern faces can be seen reflected in its upper black leather. Arriving at their destination, the taller soldier falls behind his superior with a clipboard in hand. Assessing his new charges, the drill sergeant stands stoically and waits for silence to descend.

Clicking his heels together, the tall soldier steps forward and shouts at the top of his lungs, "RECRUITS, FALL IN LINE!"

Fifty young men drop and trip over their gear scrambling forward in a consorted effort to form a straight, single row. Nervously their gaze shifts from one to the other; their shoulders slouched, all except for the two statuesque vampires among them. From the corner of his eye, Edward catches sight of Robert openly gaping at him. He and Skip are at the opposite end of the long line. Without hair, the facial resemblance between father and son is undeniable. They could easily pass for brothers – identical twin brothers.

Lifting the bullhorn from his arm to his mouth, the drill sergeant barks to his companion, "Corporal Fantauzzo, have you ever seen such a pathetic punch of MOTHERFUCKING PUSSIES?"

Corporal Fantauzzo shouts and annunciates each word, "No. Sir. I. Have. Not. Sergeant Little. SIR!"

The men laugh at the sergeant's jest as well as his surname that so aptly fits his stature. Coughing and loud throat clearing ensues when a few of the men notice that the two leaders do not appear to be amused.

"Corporal Fantauzzo, show these ladies to their quarters," the sergeant bellows. He glances over at the nearby buses waiting at the curb before snidely adding, "Take them on the scenic tour. A nice long stroll around our grounds should do wonders for their sense of humor."

A recruit to the left of the formation is stretching his neck to try and find the barracks somewhere off in the distance. He groans within earshot of the sergeant. Edward recognizes him as being the redheaded guy who had provided him with the urine sample and whose blood vial he had taken. Abruptly spinning around, the sergeant is immediately up in his face, so close in fact that the recruit can smell the onions the sergeant had on his hamburger for lunch.

"Drop and give me fifty, sweetheart," the sergeant spits in a derogatory manner.

"Sir, my name is Reginald Bonenfant," he says, dropping to the ground. "But my friends all call me Red, sir." His thin arms begin to quiver after only ten push-ups.

"I will be many things to you over the next several weeks Private but I assure you that a friend will not be one of them!" The Sergeant's rant becomes progressively louder as he shouts into the bullhorn. "I will be your mother … your father … even the object of your wet dreams as I am going to FUCK with each and every last one of you girls until your sorry asses meet the high standards of the United States Army. Do we understand each other ladies?" He pauses and waits for a reply.

A few pathetic 'yes sir's' are muttered down the line.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" he screams, the vein on his neck pulsing.

"YES SIR!" A resounding roar echoes.

"Get these ugly-ass broads out of here corporal," Sergeant Little huffs. He then turns on his heels and storms off toward the building.

"Yes, Sergeant Little, sir!" The corporal salutes his superior and turns to face his charges. "Pick up your gear and in pairs try to keep up with me," he yells as he starts jogging backwards.

Spotting the young man still sprawled out flat on the ground he calls out to him, "That goes for you too, Private!"

**.**

**.**

Seated outside the small waiting room of the infirmary, Edward replays the events of the afternoon as he patiently waits for word of Private Bonnenfant's condition. Failing to rise after his pathetic attempt at performing push-ups, the corporal repeatedly tapped his shoulder with the heel of his shoe believing that Reginald was clowning around. When that failed to rouse him, the corporal became alarmed, and then turned him over. It was no joke. Reginald was passed out cold. Without hesitation Carlisle darted forward and dropped down to his knees and began checking the young man's vital signs.

"_Do you know what is wrong with him?" the Corporal asks Carlisle. "Are you a doctor or something?"_

_While checking his pulse, Carlisle briefly glances up at the Corporal. "Why yes I am, Corporal Fantauzzo. Dr. Oliver Fawkes at your service, sir."_

Edward and Carlisle had discussed this very subject before enlisting and decided that while Edward had a medical degree just as Carlisle did, 'Oliver' would be the doctor and 'Henry' would not. Their reasoning's was twofold; for starters Henry would be considered too young to have completed medical school and secondly, as an officer with no special skills to speak of, his odds of being assigned to Robert's infantry unit would increase. That had been their entire reason for joining the army in the first place, to protect Edward's son from harm. Carlisle came along to support his own son, Edward. That he could use his considerable skills to saves lives was an added bonus.

_Thank Christ! The corporal heaves a sigh of relief. You think they'd screen these guys better. Fawkes … Fucks … what an awful name … Fucks looks too young to be a real doctor …_

"_He's going to be fine," Carlisle proclaims as Reginald stirs. "Too much drink last night and not enough food but he should be checked out anyway."_

_Edward steps forward and hands the Corporal his note. "Sir, Henry Myers, sir. I am to report to Dr. Morgan. If you like, I can take him to the infirmary, sir."_

_Hmm … a brown noser._

_After reading Edward's orders, he handed him back the note. "Yes Private Myers, you may escort your girlfriend to the infirmary."_

Edward runs his hand over his newly shorn head and lets out a deep sigh. He won't soon forget the expression on Robert's face or Emmett's words that echoed in his thoughts … '_don't drop the soap' …_ when he placed a supportive arm around Reginald's shoulders and helped him to his feet.

Dr. Morgan's voice startles him, returning him to the present.

"I'm glad you're here Private Myers. Had you gone to my office, you would have been sent to the infirmary anyways as I'm filling in for one of our doctors today. We're short-staffed but that isn't anything new. Come, follow me, I need to have a word with you." _A rather unpleasant conversation …_

Closing the door behind him, the doctor gestures for Edward to take a seat and slips into his chair behind the desk. Spreading the contents of Edward's file on the desktop, he momentarily pauses and skims over the forms.

"Is Private Bonnenfant going to be alright sir?" Edward inquires, making small talk as he listens in on the good doctor's thoughts.

_How strange that both Myers and Bonnenfant have the same medical conditions … Damn, Myers is married. He's going to have to break the news to his wife of his infidelity, as she'll need to be treated too. _

"Hmm … yes, he's fine." Closing the file, Dr. Morgan sits back and looks Edward square in the eye. "I'm not here to judge you Private Myers. I know it's not uncommon for men to step outside the confines of marriage and take comfort elsewhere but in the future, you might want to use these." Opening the top drawer, he gives Edward a handful of individually wrapped rubbers. "Especially when overseas and if you are given a weekend leave and you happen to ..."

"I assure you that I love my wife Dr. Morgan and that I've never …" he interrupts before realizing he just made a huge blunder. _Better he believe it was I than Bella who was unfaithful. _

Rubbing his chin, Dr. Morgan leans forward, "Ahh …I see." _Cuckolded husband. _ "There is no easy way to say this then … you're wife gave you the clap, better known as the highly contagious sexually transmitted disease, gonorrhea. The most effective known treatment for gonorrhea are sulfonamides but I'd like to try a new product that is currently being tested right here in Chicago. It's being heralded by researchers as a miracle drug – they call it penicillin. Your wife should be notified. I'd like to put her on the same regimen as you. Is she staying nearby?"

Edward nods that she is. "Well actually doctor, there was one time I had a bit too much to drink and there was this girl …" he winces at his fib but reasons that it is necessary to restore Bella's virtue.

_Just as I initially thought. _"Regardless, your wife must be treated." Dr. Morgan gazes out the window. "You also have iron deficiency anemia. It's not life threatening but it should be addressed now or it can lead to a more chronic, debilitating condition down the road. Rather than put you on medication, I'd like you to make small changes to your diet by adding iron-rich foods such as beans, lentils and beef liver. Tell me Henry, have you been fatigued lately? Do you still feel tired after eight hours of sleep?

_Changes to my diet … I don't think you'd approve if I were to do that, Dr. Morgan. And as for sleep … if only it was possible for me to sleep and dream again. _

"Now that you mention it, I have felt rather worn out and drained," Edward replies, playing along with the pretense. "I'll certainly do as you suggest."

"Good. Good," the doctor dismissively says with pen in hand. "Now give me your wife's phone number. I'm certain this can be handled discreetly." _Although I wouldn't want to be in this guys shoes for all the tea in China when she finds out what he's been up to._

"Thank you doctor," Edward politely replies. "Adele can be reached at CA9-5555.

"That'll be all Private Myers." Dr. Morgan quickly jots down the phone number and stands up. "I'd like for you to escort Private Bonnenfant back to your barracks in case he has another fainting spell."

**.**

**.**

"Hey man, thanks," Private Bonnenfant says as he walks the mile or so long path beside Edward to their barracks. "At least my making a complete fool of myself wasn't a total waste. It did get us both out of running and carrying our shit all the way out here not to mention the hot piece of ta ta's that was shamelessly ogling me at the infirmary. She wanted me. Wait just a sec …" He comes to a halt and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"You're mistaken Reginald," Edward chuckles having heard the nurse's thoughts. "She probably saw your medical chart and was thoroughly disgusted by you having the clap. Can't you tell the difference between desire and repulsion?"

"Call me Red and I think you're wrong Henry. If you hadn't shown up when you did, she would have been massaging my Johnson. " He hands Edward his pack and lights his cigarette. "Who knows when our drill sergeant … that little prick with the Napoleon complex, grants us a smoke break," he off-handedly adds.

Edward hesitates before firmly shaking his head and giving them back. "No thanks."

Inhaling a whiff of smoke that Red blows in his direction causes venom to pool inside Edward's mouth. Forcing it back down, he turns his head away and inhales the clean air. _This is just fucking great! I don't even have to smoke for it to trigger this reaction … my craving … my thirst. _

For his companion's own safety, Edward yanks Red's cigarette out of his mouth without warning and extinguishes it with his shoe. "You know, these things will kill you," his voice is ominous. _Literally … don't look at his neck pulsing with sweet, rich blood ... it smells divine. _

"Damn!" Red cries out in protest. "What the hell is your problem? I thought you were cool."

_Get a hold of yourself Edward! Think of something else … a diversion. _He starts reciting Lincoln's 'Gettysburg Address' in his head. _"__Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure …"_

Grabbing hold of Edward's upper arm, Red swings him around but immediately let's go of him when he catches sight of his dark, menacing scowl. "Hey, are you all right Henry? Should I bring you to the infirmary?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

_Am I all right? _"Sorry Red, I'm allergic to cigarette smoke," Edward fibs for the second time in less than an hour. "I'll walk ahead so you can have another one."

"I'm the one who is sorry Henry," Red says, his eyes downcast. "But you should have said something." _I don't know how he's going to manage as practically everyone smokes in the military!_

_That is $64 question. Can I really do this? _

**.**

**.**

"Henry!" Butch hollers when he spots Edward and Red step inside C-Company's barracks. "It's about time you two showed up," he says, gasping for air, catching up to them. "That fucking corporal searched my trunk! Can you believe that? I think he violated at least one of my constitutional rights … bastard!"

"You're in the Army now," Edward chuckles. "You gave up those rights when you got here. Get used to it. So what did he find?"

"Nothing," Butch raises a brow and smirks. "Nothing, that is except a shitload of cheese and sausages. It's a good thing, Henry, you took what you did. But when I explained why I brought it and who it was for, he suddenly backed off. Good old, Uncle Bob comes through just by mentioning his name!"

"So they're actually letting you keep the trunk?" Red asks.

"Unfortunately no," Butch frowns. "Corporal Fantauzzo kept going on and on about it going against regulation and favoritism. Can't have that now can we?" he chuckles, mimicking the corporals voice. "But don't worry, I've already scoped out where I'm going to hide the goods. When lights go out, I'll need your help Henry to move it."

"Sure thing," Edward replies. _What else do I have to do at night?_

Edward and Red pause in the doorway before entering the long, rectangular room. The walls are painted a bright white and the tiled floors are a dull gray. High above almost to the ceiling are rows of square windows, large enough to allow light to stream through but too small to climb out of. Wall fans hang down the arched ceiling, their blades spinning fast. On both sides of the expansive room and as far as they can see are bunk beds, each with the same thin, army-green blanket and white pillow case. Bolted on the walls that separate the bunk beds are double metal lockers. It is a cold and sparse room.

_Home sweet home. _Edward sighs as he enters.

"Oh yeah, and you should know that we've each been assigned a 'battle buddy'." Rolling his eyeballs, Butch elaborates. "It's supposed to help build our sense of camaraderie but get this … we're supposed to do _everything _with our battle buddy … eat, shit, shave … jack off," he laughs at his own choice of words. "Christ, why did my battle buddy have to be such an asshole?"

"I was hoping to bunk with my cousin, Oliver." Edward scans the perimeter of the room and finds Carlisle unpacking the contents of his duffle bag into his locker while his battle buddy, Robert's friend Skip, changes his clothes.

Carlisle looks up at him and smiles. _You'd better hurry Edward. We're to unpack and dress in our athletic clothes and line up outside in five minutes. _He tilts his head across the aisle. _But first, take a look at whom you've been assigned to. I believe it's a combination of fate and God at work. _

Edward follows Carlisle's gaze and gasps. _Robert! Robert is my battle buddy! _After removing his few belongings from Carlisle's bag, he watches as his son neatly hangs his uniform on a hanger and places it inside his locker. Edward breaks eye contact when Robert suddenly looks in his direction. Quickly Edward crosses to the other side of the room and joins him.

Without turning around, Robert says, "The top bunk is mine." _Of all the people to be assigned to I get him! What are the odds? Looks like I'll be sleeping with one eye open. _

"That's fine." Smiling like a loon, Edward gets busy and starts putting his own things away. _I'll win him over. _

~BtBB~

From the jukebox in the corner of the local dive bar just outside of Laredo, Texas, the sad, heart-wrenching country ballad plays on loop. Starting yet again for the umpteenth time, the man's soulful, lamenting wail, mirrors that of the young woman silently cowering and trembling uncontrollably inside the ladies room. It all happened so fast. One minute her hand was on the door handle ready to rejoin her husband and friends for a typical Friday night out and the next she heard their bloodcurdling screams that stopped her dead in her tracks. It wasn't unusual for a brawl or two to break out at some point during the night, especially after several rounds had been downed but this was different. When it finally grows silent, she cracks open the door and peaks out. She can hardly believe her eyes when seeing the mass carnage.

Bodies are strewn everywhere across the wooden floor, their necks and clothes drenched in blood. A flash of bright red hair darting across the room and a man's maniacal laugh prevents her from opening the door any further. She closes her eyes and holds her breath, praying that it be nothing but the alcohol swimming in her veins playing tricks on her mind but the voices outside tell her otherwise.

"I'm growing tired of them James," Victoria says, licking the blood that is dripping off of her fingers. "They're absolutely no fun at all, always talking crazy shit about an 'alternative lifestyle'. We don't need them."

Draining the last drops of blood from the bartender, James tosses him aside and jumps on top of the bar. "You have to trust me doll. Have I ever led you wrong? Be patient. It won't be too much longer, I promise."

"Hmm … why won't you tell me what you have planned in that brilliant mind of yours?" she pouts. "Don't you trust me, baby?"

In a nanosecond James pins himself on top of Victoria, his hands holding hers above her head. Grinding and rocking his pelvis against her sex, his intentions clear.

"Rule number one doll, never trust anyone – ever. So my answer is no, sweet Vicky, I do not trust even you."

His hand yanks at the fabric of her thin cotton dress. Pushing her thighs apart, he shoves two fingers into her slick wet cunt. Turned on by the roughness of his foreplay, Victoria moans and bucks her groin against his hand seeking more friction.

"I'm not just anyone, James. I'm your mate," she hisses.

Inwardly he groans, wondering where she got the idea that she was his mate. He's certainly never referred to her as such. Releasing her one hand, he guides it over to his throbbing bulge. "I'm protecting you, doll. The less you know the better."

Quickly she unzips his jeans and releases his fully erect cock. Guiding him to her entrance, she cries out when he plunges deep inside her tight walls. Their intermingled, garbled grunts and groaning noises rise into a full crescendo as his hips repeatedly thrust and smack against her skin at a frantic and frenzied pace.

"James!" Victoria screams at the top of her lungs as her entire body convulses beneath him.

"FUCK!" James grunts as he slams into her one last time, his eyes rolling back as his orgasm rips through him.

As often happens when he's in the midst of his release, his mind flashes back to another time and place where a young woman with chestnut brown hair is pinned beneath him and she is frantically struggling to break free. He is not surprised, when opening his eyes, to see Isabella Swan and she is laughing … taunting and mocking him. He shakes his head and the vision disappears. _I hope that fucking bitch gets a front row seat from inside the depths of Hell. That bastard she fucked too._

In the true spirit of 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' James jumps to his feet and tucks his now limp member back into his pants. Remembering his manners, he offers his hand and helps lift Victoria up off of the floor.

"We should head back," he says, making a beeline for the door.

"What about her?" Victoria tilts her head towards the ladies room.

"All part of the plan, doll," he chuckles and closes the door behind them. _We'll just see who has the last laugh!_

* * *

**A/N: Oh! What on earth is James up to? The same can be said for Edward. What is that boy thinking getting involved with Butch and his moneymaking scheme? It's a good thing Carlisle is nearby to keep him in line. But the real question is, do you think Robert will warm up to Edward? A penny for your thoughts …**


	7. Chapter Six

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: While our boys in uniform are otherwise occupied, let's see what the girls are up to, shall we? **

**A shout of thanks to my wonderful Beta T, Lovin Rob.**

* * *

Come to the window,

My baby, with me,

And look at the stars

That shine on the sea!

There are two little stars

That play bo-peep

With two little fish

Far down in the deep;

And two little frogs

Cry 'Neap, neap, neap'

I see a dear baby

That should be asleep.

Chapter Six

Elena turns her brand new sporty, blue, two-door Packard Clipper, her only indulgence from her trust fund after graduating from her Grandfather Masen's alma mater, onto Meigs Street. After all she reasons, as a partner at one of Chicago's most respected and influential financial institutions, the car is more of a necessity than a luxury. Anticipating that she would be putting in long hours at the office, adhering to a bus schedule seemed impractical. That is what Elena told herself but if she was being completely honest, she simply loved 'Patty', the nickname she had christened her car with, and the freedom it provided her. To Elena there is something exhilarating as well as liberating in getting behind the wheel of a car and driving wherever the road may lead. The very first weekend she got Patty, she and Kat drove for hours along the picturesque country roads bordering Lake Michigan to Milwaukee, Wisconsin and back. They'd been gone so long in fact that her grandma almost called out the National Guard to search for them. Feeling badly for causing her dear grandma needless worry, Elena promised her that the next time the road beckoned, she would be certain to provide her destination and a time-frame for her return.

Elena lets out an audible sigh. Her present living arrangement is another issue. Both Aunt Clara and her grandma have been over the moon having her back home with them this past month but after having been on her own while away at college, she is uncertain as to whether she can handle the restrictions. She is used to coming and going as she pleases without anyone questioning her, that is, except for Kat who is a notorious busy-body. On the other hand, Elena senses that they need her and as she loves them both dearly she doesn't want to disappoint either of them. The house is certainly large enough. No doubt about that. With Robert in the service and Kristen leaving for New York City in the near future, she ponders moving into his bedroom and having the entire third floor all to herself. If that doesn't work out, perhaps she could find a place of her own like Kat.

Turning right at the next traffic light onto Central Avenue, Elena steers Patty into the small parking lot behind Jeremiah's Tavern. Kat's new apartment over the bar isn't in the best neighborhood but at least it's clean, the rent is affordable and most importantly, it's all hers. Being that she's arrived early and it's highly improbable that Kat is ready to leave straight away, Elena parks her car and climbs up the side entrance steps to her friend's new place.

_**Knock, Knock, Knock …**_

Elena smirks when Kat opens the door and her prediction rings true. Kat is wearing a fuchsia terry cloth bathrobe and her hair is wrapped in a towel high on top of her head like Carmen Miranda, minus the fruit and she hasn't put on any make-up. Sensing Elena's disapproval, Kat shrugs. She steps aside allowing Elena to enter before rushing back to the bathroom.

"How is it you were never fired from your other jobs?" Elena teases as she walks through the front parlor to the tiny kitchenette and straight for the coffee pot. "Your new boss isn't going to appreciate you being late on your very first day on the job."

Popping her head outside the bathroom door, Kat playfully sticks out her tongue. "I hope my new boss doesn't turn out to be a maniacal tyrant! Otherwise, I might have to start looking elsewhere."

"You wouldn't really do that, would you?" Alarmed, Elena's head shoots up as she puts the half and half back on the shelf and closes the refrigerator door.

The very idea of her best friend not being by her side as she ventures into the unknown is incomprehensible to her. They'd been through so much together. No one, apart from Robert, knows her as well as Kat; maybe more so as she's withheld certain pertinent information from him as of late.

"I desperately need you Kat!"

"Relax, don't get your panties in a bind. You're stuck with me," Kat chuckles. "Is it too soon to ask for a raise?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," Elena takes a cautious sip of her coffee and returns to the parlor. "I need you to be my eyes and ears as I don't know who I can trust besides Caleb and he'll soon be retiring. If you can help me prove myself as being invaluable to the firm, I'll compensate you handsomely."

With a salacious smirk on her face Kat saunters back in to the parlor and positions herself directly in front of Elena who is sitting on the couch. She hesitates with indecision for a split-second before quickly removing her sash and letting her robe drop to the floor. Eyes widening with surprise at the sight of her nudeness, Elena swallows hard and chokes on her coffee. Leaning forward Kat places both her hands on top of Elena's shoulders.

"You're very tense. I can help you with that." Kat whispers. Slowly moving in closer Kat plants her mouth over Elena's full lips and lingers waiting for a response.

Elena puts her coffee cup down on the end table and reaching for her hand, pulls her into her lap. Skimming her fingers through Kat's damp hair, Elena moans softly and this time she is the one to claim her lips. Slipping her tongue inside Kat's mouth Elena deepens their kiss. Hungrily they devour each other as their tongues swirl together. Coming up for air Kat presses Elena's hand in hers and slowly begins to trace the outline of her throat, down past her collarbone and continuing until reaching the soft curve of her supple breasts. With no words spoken, Elena latches onto her nipple, alternating between sucking and grazing her teeth and tongue while stretching and molding her elongating nipple. Throwing her head back in triumph, Kat groans reveling in the exquisite sensation. Passion and desire ignited, their eyes meet and silently ask the question hanging between them.

Elena had always been pretty and popular, two things most people didn't associate with Katherine Hughes when they were growing up. Considered too tall and tomboyish, she'd pretend it didn't hurt when hearing the other students whisper and call her an 'ugly duckling' behind her back, everyone that is, except for Elena. From the very first day they met in Miss Pecor's kindergarten class Elena had staunchly defended her. They were soon fast friends and became inseparable. But it wasn't until reaching puberty that Kat grew painfully aware that the feelings she harbored for her friend were different than that of the other girls who constantly talked and obsessed about boys, including Elena. Unsure of herself and fear of being ostracized by her peers yet again, Kat kept her feelings to herself. Much later when the 'ugly duckling' transformed into the 'beautiful swan' Kat went so far as to flirt and fornicate with the boys, anything to be like the other girls. Surprisingly she enjoyed being intimate with men and was relieved to discover that it was only Elena she found desirable, not other women. But she was fairly certain that if Elena knew her true feelings, she would lose her forever. So Kat watched from the sidelines and remained silent as the long procession of boys and later men paraded in and out the revolving doors of Elena's life. That is until that fateful night last year when Elena's relationship with her professor came to a head.

A long minute passes between them before Elena looks away and shakes her head as if trying to clear it. "Ahh … this is wrong. I'm sorry Kat," she murmurs removing her hands from her waist. Taking a deep breath, she exhales. "I thought we both agreed this would never happen again."

"Tell me. Why is it wrong?" Kat challenges, not backing down so easily. "I love you. You love me. It doesn't get any simpler than that."

"You're my dearest friend and yes, I do love you but … but I just don't know." Stretching her fingers, Elena lifts Kat's robe off of the floor and hands it to her. "What happened between us was only because Warren and I quarreled. He was being such an asshole and then you and I got really drunk … it was a mistake."

Placing her hands over her ears, Kat says, "If I hear you say that one more time I'm going to scream but if it makes you feel better, keep telling yourself that Elena …" Rising to her feet, Kat hastily puts her robe back on and securely ties the sash around her waist.

Kat stops herself from saying something she'll later regret. From experience she knows that it is pointless to continue arguing with Elena. Unlike herself, Elena hasn't come to terms with that one night not too long ago, when they lay in each other's arms and made sweet love to one another. It was the single greatest night of Kat's life. Pursing her lips together, she takes a deep breath before purposefully making light of the situation and essentially lets Elena off the hook - yet again.

"But you have to admit that we were good together," Kat says wistfully.

Elena feels equal measures of relief and gratitude for her dear friend in not pushing the issue any further. Inwardly she chastises herself for allowing those inappropriate feelings for her best friend to surface again. She wonders if perhaps it is time that she bring the subject up with her psychologist, Mr. Taylor as she is still quite conflicted.

"Correction Miss Hughes, we were fucking great together," Elena says and laughs, reflecting on their mutual successful outcome. "Which reminds me … you never told me what happened the other night when Skip brought you home? Do I need to have Robbie beat him up?"

Dashing to her bedroom, Kat playfully squeals, "Maybe …"

"You didn't!" Elena shrieks, her eyes ablaze.

"Would that surprise you Elena?" she calls out. "But if you must know, the answer is no. Although we very well might have ended up dancing between the sheets if when we finally came up for air, he hadn't called me 'Elena' while pawing and fumbling with my bra strap." Kat falls silent, reflecting on that awkward moment. "I know how he feels though. Skip has it bad for you too. We have that much in common."

Purposefully evading Kat's reference to her feelings, Elena sidesteps and instead asks, "If that is the case, then tell me why he was making out with you?" Getting up from the couch she takes her coffee cup over to the sink.

"He's a man," Kat off-handedly replies as if the answer should be obvious but elaborates when she returns to the parlor fully dressed. "Actually I don't think Skip's ego could handle anymore of your rejection. He really is very sweet and it was my way of helping support the war effort. Who knows when or even if there will be a next time before he gets …"

"Oh please!" Elena cries out. "You are so full of shit! You'd really spread your legs for Uncle Sam?"

"Of course, wouldn't you?" Kate winks and heads to the bathroom to apply her make-up. Her voice echoes into the parlor. "I felt bad for him afterwards as he kept apologizing for his slip-up so I sort of promised him that I'd convince you to write to him while he's overseas."

"Kat, you didn't!" Elena exclaims and winces.

"That I actually did do," she says poking her head out the door. "Keeping up the morale of our brave soldiers is the very least you can do Elena …"

Leaving the bathroom, Kat makes a dramatic entrance into the parlor and announces, "I'm ready now. We should probably leave before I'm late for work and my new boss decides to fire me."

"Smart ass," Elena mumbles under her breath as Kat closes and locks the door behind them.

**.**

**.**

Kat tries to make small talk as Elena drives them to Masen and McGuire's downtown office building but she remains quiet, occasionally responding with a 'yes', 'no' or 'huh?' It's obvious that Elena is distracted and her mind is elsewhere. Not that Kat can blame her. She has a lot at stake today. Kat has butterflies fluttering around in her stomach too but at least as Elena's assistant, she already has a fairly good idea of what to expect. After all, hadn't she worked as a secretary while Elena attended Princeton University? Her new position couldn't be that much different.

College hadn't been an option for Kat even though she was considered one of the brightest in their high school class, male or female. Her family simply couldn't afford the tuition and they were too proud to accept the money Elena offered to give. But pride wasn't their only excuse. Kat knew only too well her father's view of girls going to college as 'throwing good money after bad'. She lost count how many times she heard him say it. It was always followed by 'what good is college after you're married and popping out babies?' to which her mother would nervously ask 'you _do_ want to get married, don't you dear?' Kat finally managed to convince her father that going with Elena to New Jersey and enrolling in a secretarial school might not be such a bad thing after all, especially if she chose not to marry. Once that was settled she was fairly certain that her mother's prayers to the Almighty intensified and centered solely on her daughter meeting and catching one of Elena's rich, ivy-league male friends. Little did she know that Kat prayed too, only her mother would be shocked to know what she prayed for.

Waiting for the elevator doors to open, Kat takes an appreciative glance at Elena. Dressed in a below-the-knee navy blue pencil skirt, matching jacket and ivory blouse, she looks every bit the polished professional. Her copper hair is stylishly pulled back and away from her heart-shaped face. Elena is flawless and beautiful. Kat can't help but notice that to anyone else Elena might appear to be calm and confident but Kat knows better. Whenever Elena's nerves are on edge, she presses the nail of her pinky finger into the palm of her hand and pierces her flesh, sometimes drawing blood, just as she is doing now.

"Hey," Kat whispers. "Everything will be fine."

"Thanks," Elena exhales and takes another deep breath, relaxing her hand.

They step inside along with a handful of other people when the elevator door pings open. It stops on the third floor and again on the eighth floor before finally reaching the sixteenth and highest level where the offices of Masen and McGuire occupy the entire floor. The door slides open to reveal the very large and opulent reception area. Upon entering one is immediately struck by the fragrant mixture of fresh-cut flowers and leather; the later due to the many dark leather sofas and high back chairs scattered throughout. The walls are paneled in a thick tongue-in-groove cherry wood and ornate crown molding runs the parameter of the high white plastered ceiling that contrast the polished dark hardwood floors below. A meticulously dressed young woman is seated behind a long, polished cherry wood desk.

Recognizing Elena, the receptionist gives her a warm smile and rises to her feet. "It's good to see you again Miss Masen. Let me be the first to officially welcome you on your first day as a full-fledged partner at Masen and McGuire." She quickly adds, "Good morning Kat."

"Hi Gail," Kat replies.

"Thank you Gail but I'm still just 'Elena'. No need for formalities," Elena says returning her smile. "Is Caleb in yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Thornton is in and he is expecting you. Would you like me to buzz him?" Gail tenuously asks while lowering herself into her chair and reaching for the phone receiver.

"No thank you. That won't be necessary." Smiling yet again, Elena with Kat by her side, walk past the receptionist and across the expansive room to the long hallway on her right.

The sound of their heels clicking on the floor causes a few heads to rise as they pass by. A clock on a nearby wall announces the time as being a quarter past nine and except for the secretaries and junior associates already busy at their desks; Elena notices that the offices of most senior executives are still empty. She makes a mental note to review their company policy with regards to business hours and upper management. _They should set the example … _

Finding Caleb's door wide open, the girls pause outside the hallway. Tapping her knuckles on the doorframe beforehand, they stroll inside. His back to them, Caleb swings his chair around and gives them a curt nod gesturing for them to take a seat before finishing his call. From the brisk tone of his voice it sounds important. Elena cringes when noticing the many stacks of files piled on top of his desk and again when her eyes fall to the chairs in front filled with even more. Looking to each other and back again, Kat and Elena roll their eyes and shake their heads and go to work removing the files from the chairs so they have a place to sit.

"Listen Walker, I don't know what Ian has promised you but I am telling you that it just isn't possible." Caleb frowns and starts running his fingers through what little hair he has left on his head. "No, I can't just 'do it'. This isn't like the old days. There are strict procedures and guidelines the Fed's have put in place for that very reason." Pausing Caleb closes his eyes and listens as the man on the other end rants. He interrupts him. "No … but … but … no, I will not jeopardize the reputation of this firm." Resigned to the less than positive outcome of his call, Caleb sighs heavily. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Goodbye Walker."

Placing the receiver back down, Caleb lifts his head and gives both girls a welcoming smile. Pushing back his chair he navigates a path through the clutter in order to get to them but stumbles in the process. Kat's quick reflexes save him from falling flat on his face. Steadying himself, he opens his arms wide and embraces both girls.

"Please excuse the mess. I've been going through and weeding out old files," Caleb reddens and offers as an explanation. "This is a momentous day!" he then excitedly exclaims. "Elena, your father and grandfather would be so proud of you."

"Don't you think they would have preferred Robert here instead of me?" Pulling back from his hold, Elena examines his face. "After all, I am a _woman_ and this is still a man's world."

Releasing both girls, he leans down and carefully pushes away the files on the floor to grant them more foot room. "I won't lie to you Elena. Your grandfather Masen was tough as nails and very old fashioned. He probably would have pressured Robert to take the reins just as he did with your father."

This is news to her. Elena frowns appearing perplexed. "But my father signed the letter of intent," she argues. "Why would he do that if he didn't want this?"

"Your grandfather could be quite persuasive." Caleb slowly shakes his head. "But I was there and I witnessed your father's signature. Whatever his reasons, I truly believe he thought he was doing the right thing by joining the firm but I know for a fact that his heart was never in this business. Edward was nothing like his father but I'm positive that he would be pleased as long as you were doing this of your own free will."

"I am," she says reaching for her handkerchief and dabs the corner of her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. "Tell me. Where do I start?"

A smile crosses Caleb's face. "First I have a surprise for you."

The girls follow Caleb as he exits his office. They don't have very far to go as he makes a quick right and stops two doors down. He spins around so his back is up against the door. His excitement is infectious and in spite of her nervousness, Elena can't help but return his smile.

With a gleam in his eye, he rubs his hands together. "It is only fitting that you should have your own office." Reaching inside his suit jacket, he produces an engraved nameplate.

**Miss Elena M Masen**

**President**

As she looks at the nameplate resting in the palm of her hand, a gamut of emotions flow through her; surprise, awe and confusion before finally settling on fear.

"President?" she breathes and swallows hard.

"Why yes Elena," he replies, baffled by her response. "President is a title that befits your status here."

"That hardly seems fair," she murmurs, still staring at her nameplate. "We both know the only reason I am where I am, is because of my family's name and please don't tell me that my working here during my summer breaks was sufficient to have earned it either …"

"Stop right there young lady," Caleb sternly rebukes and admonishes her. Quickly he opens the door so they can step inside. He closes the door shut. "Never discuss anything private in the hallway. I believe we discussed this topic yesterday at Robert's send-off brunch, did we not?"

Elena dutifully nods.

"Don't' be so quick to knock yourself down," he says firmly. "There are plenty of others willing to do that for you. Don't forget that. A true leader arms him or in this case, herself, with a shield of self-confidence. This business can be ruthless and those who carry themselves with aplomb will dominate. Remember no one will willingly follow someone who is insecure, indecisive or perceives himself as being inferior. So please Elena, be careful how you portray yourself."

Elena gives her mentor another hug. "You are right Caleb. Thank you. See, this is why I need you to stay on."

Chuckling, he gently pats her back. "One other thing my dear, don't be hugging anyone while at work. You'll only add to the never-ending drivel of office gossip."

Kat's ears perk up.

Releasing him, Elena sighs, "I still have a lot to learn."

"You'll be fine," Caleb reassures her.

"What is it?" he asks when seeing the forlorn expression return to her face.

"If I'm to be 'President', what does that make Mr. McGuire? Are we going to be co-Presidents?" she asks.

Kat, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet up until now, answers for him. "KING!"

She and Caleb break out into peals of laughter at her proclamation and exchange glances knowing that her assessment isn't too far off the mark. Absent from this repartee is Elena who has turned her attention to her new office.

The room is bright and airy and smells of fresh paint. As with the rest of the offices, its walls are cream-colored. Straight ahead is a set of long windows with custom taupe window treatments. To the right is a shiny new dark mahogany wood desk. Facing the desk is a cranberry leather couch and matching chair.

"I don't understand why neither of you don't care for Mr. McGuire," Elena says. "He's only ever been nice to me."

Caleb composes himself. "I'm glad of that Elena and I do hope that you and he have a better working relationship than he and I have forged these past twenty-four years. Let's just say that we haven't always seen eye to eye on things."

"If you two didn't work well together, why didn't he fire you?" Kat asks.

"Oh trust me, Kat, he's tried," Caleb chuckles again remembering the many times that Ian attempted to get rid of him. "Unfortunately for him, he couldn't. You see his hands were tied, so to speak. The court appointed me to handle the interests of the Masen family until such time that either Robert or Elena would be able to take their rightful place in the firm. The only way around the court edict was if he could have somehow proven that I was incompetent." _A route he didn't dare take … I know where his skeletons are buried. _

"I wasn't aware of that. I'm sorry you had to go through such trouble for our family," Elena says sympathetically and touches his arm.

"Don't be. Working at Masen and McGuire has been challenging and rewarding, not to mention lucrative. I've enjoyed myself immensely," he smiles warmly. "But you asked about his job title so I'll tell you. He now refers to himself as 'Chairman of the board'. As such his first decree was to redefine the parameters of his position and grant himself unprecedented privileges and power. Take this office for example."

"The man has an ego the size of Texas," Kat exaggerates. "I doubt that his head can fit through those double doors over there." She tilts her head to the left.

"What do you mean Caleb?" Elena asks. "What does Mr. McGuire have to do with my office?"

"This isn't your office Elena," Caleb chuckles. "This is Kat's."

Kat's mouth drops open in disbelief. "Mine?" she mouths. "Maybe I was wrong about him after all."

"Ian hired a contractor to refurbish yours as well as several other offices by combining two smaller ones into what he now refers to as 'executive suites'," he points to the double doors. "Your office, Elena, is in there."

Elena quickly rushes over and turns the doorknob. When the door swings open it reveals an even larger room, easily double the size of Kat's. Elena gasps upon seeing her office. Decorated in the same cream and cranberry color tones as Kat's office, incredibly hers is even more luxurious. Built-in mahogany bookcases encompass the entire wall opposite the long, polished mahogany wood desk and high-back cranberry leather padded chair. Off to the right and behind her desk is a small alcove where on one side is a walk-in closet and the other a private bathroom. On the inner wall next to the set of doors is a mini-bar with two padded stools. There is an enormous ornately framed square mirror behind the bar with two Grecian goddesses etched in grey. Tall leafy exotic potted plants are in each corner over by the windows. Facing each other in the center of the comfortable room are two matching cranberry leather couches with a glass top coffee table separating them and two glass end tables. Two cream-colored leather armchairs are perpendicular to the couches. To top it all off a very large glass-beaded chandelier sparkles overhead.

"Oh my!" Elena says, her hand flying up to her mouth, "Caleb, this has to have cost a fortune."

"I wish I could take credit for it but Ian authorized all of this." He waves his arm while turning full circle. "I suppose it gave him reason to renovate his office as well. There are rumors he has a pull-out sofa in a private sitting area but I've been far too busy to check." _Nothing that man does would surprise me._

"These flowers are gorgeous!" Kat excitedly exclaims. In a crystal-cut vase on top of Elena's desk is a large floral arrangement with an assortment of pastel-colored, fresh-cut spring flowers. "I wonder who they're from."

"They're from me." Ian McGuire boldly replies as he saunters through the double doors and into Elena's office. "A little something to welcome the next generation of Masen's into the fold."

"Thank you. That was very kind of you Mr. McGuire." Elena says, touched by his thoughtfulness.

"You are very welcome Elena and it would please me immensely if you were to call me Ian." He catches Caleb's disapproving expression out of the corner of his eye and smiles with satisfaction. "I can hardly believe that little Elena is all grown up. You are quite beautiful, just as your mother was."

Kat glares at him while Elena looks away blushing profusely. Caleb shakes his head and sighs.

At forty-five, Ian McGuire is an imposing figure in his custom tailored dark gray suit, crisp white linen shirt and matching cranberry tie. The years have been kind to him and he could easily pass as being a decade younger. Tall and physically fit, dark and classically handsome, he carries himself with an air of self-assuredness and sophistication. Meticulously manicured and clean-shaven, his full head of dark hair is newly cut and reveals just a trace of silver along the edge of his sideburns.

From out of his shadow, a younger version of Ian steps forward sporting a grin and shy smile. Momentarily stunned both Kat and Elena's mouths drop open, eyes widening, taken back by his model good looks and piercing deep blue eyes. If Ian was considered to be handsome and he most assuredly was, this young man beside him is off the charts, drop-dead gorgeous.

"Elena, you do remember my son Quinn, don't you?" Ian inquires, pleased by her reaction. "Or perhaps you don't. It has to be at least ten years since you two have crossed paths."

Quinn extends his hand for Elena to shake. "I do remember you." His voice is warm and velvety-smooth. "I believe it was at a company picnic. We might have been ten or eleven at the time. You were there with Mr. Thornton and his lovely wife and also your brother, Robert."

A vision of a tall, thin and painfully shy boy emerges. "You're the boy who bowled me over and knocked the wind out of me." _Oh my! He sure has changed …_

Quinn gives her a thin smile and releases her hand. "I'm afraid that was me. I didn't see you when I ran after the football your brother tossed in my direction." _But I see you now … _

"It's been a long time, good to see you again Quinn." Caleb shakes his hand. "Are you still living in New York City with your mother?"

Quinn's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Didn't my father tell you that I was moving back to Chicago?"

Flustered, Caleb shoots Ian a questioning glare. "No, I don't believe that he did."

"This is my son's first day on the job here too," Ian announces with pride and places his arm around his son's shoulder. "I was just about to show our new president his new executive suite which coincidentally is directly across the hall from yours Elena."

"Gee, what a coincidence," Kat mumbles sarcastically under her breath.

~BtBB~

The bright sunlight that had been streaming through the windows begins to wane as the afternoon progresses. Directly placing the palm of her hand into its path, Bella watches mesmerized as a rainbow of colors bounce off of her hand and dance across the floor of hers and Edward's apartment in the warehouse by the water's edge. Even all these many years, it never ceases to amaze her. In a flash she finds herself standing in front of the long mirror mounted on the wall of their bathroom.

Staring back at her is an extraordinarily beautiful young girl of seventeen with nary a wrinkle on her creamy white, unblemished complexion. Her perfect button nose leads to full ruby red lips. Golden irises have long since replaced her dark chocolate brown ones, passed down through her dad, Charlie. Long, luxuriant chestnut brown hair hangs loosely down her back and frames her heart-shaped face. She would be forty now had she lived after giving birth to her twins, a monumental year for most human females. Touching her face, she imagines what she might look like older. Would there be crow's feet on the sides of her eyes? Would her skin feel as soft? She'd like to believe that she would have aged as gracefully as her dear mother had but then reminds herself that she more resembles her father's side of the family and poor grandma Swan hadn't. But her conjecture is moot for as long as Bella walks the earth, she will forever be young and beautiful. _What woman wouldn't want that? _

On the bathroom counter Bella's platinum blonde wig rests on the mannequin head. On impulse she secures it in place on top of her head and starts to apply her make-up. She hadn't planned on going out but since Esme, Rose and Emmett left for Washington State earlier that morning, the quiet of her apartment walls was already beginning to drive her to distraction. It suddenly occurs to her that this is the first time she has been all by herself since … well since never … a smile slowly spreads across her face. _I've never been alone for an extended period of time. _

Bella's thoughts return to her beloved husband, Edward, as they always do. Closing her eyes, she can almost feel him standing behind her nuzzling and kissing the sides of her sensitive neck. It was his unspoken plea to her whenever he craved intimacy, which was quite often. Her smile fades as unfamiliar feelings take hold, mainly loneliness and longing. Edward has only been gone a little over twenty-four hours and already his absence is becoming increasingly unbearable. _Does he miss me too? _Knowing that he is close by doesn't help matters, as she can't simply march into Fort Sheridan and demand to see him. Or can she? Inside their large walk-in closet, Bella chooses a simple floral cotton dress. She quickly finds her large brimmed hat and matching light pink jacket and pumps, white gloves and clutch bag before heading for the door.

_**RING! RING! RING!**_

The sound of the telephone loudly ringing in the kitchen stops her dead in her tracks. It isn't often they receive phone calls.

Picking up the receiver Bella politely says, "Hello."

An unfamiliar voice is on the other end. "Hello, is this Mrs. Myers?" a man asks her.

_Oh no! Has something happened to Edward or Carlisle? _Another more terrifying thought grips her. _Robert! Elena! _

"Yes it is," she tentatively replies.

"My name Dr. Morgan and I'm a physician at Fort Sheridan. I wonder if you could come down to my office?" he inquires.

"When?" If Bella's heart were capable of pumping blood through her veins, it would be pounding furiously. "Can you tell me what this is about?"

"I'd prefer that we talk in person." She can hear him let out an audible sigh on the other end. "I'll be in my office the remainder of the afternoon if you can possibly stop by."

"Of course, I was just on my way out. I'll be right there." After exchanging goodbyes, she places the receiver back in its cradle. Leaning against the wall, she tilts her head back, closes her eyes and says a quick prayer. _Oh dear Lord, now what?_

* * *

**A/N: From the earlier chapters, did anyone suspect that Kat felt more than just friendship for Elena? Are you surprised? ****And he's baacckkk … Ian McGuire, the man who most people despised in our original story besides James. What do you think of his son, Quinn? Bella never seems to get good news via the telephone. Any thoughts or theories yet? Do I have your attention?**


	8. Chapter Seven

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: Go put on your sweat clothes and sneakers. I'll wait … its time that we join our Army boys for calisthenics and other fun adult activities. **

**Have I mentioned before how thankful I am for my amazing Beta T, Lovin Rob?**

* * *

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are.

Chapter Seven

The full moon outside casts a luminous glow through the uncovered windows as a rising cacophony echoes throughout the barracks. A blend of heavy breathing accompanied by snoring so loud that it could possibly break the sound barrier, along with the occasional burst of guttural snorts serenade those unfortunate to not have found refuge in sleep such as the two vampires lying unnaturally still on their beds. With nothing better to do Edward amuses himself by sifting through the inane thoughts and nonsensical dreams of the others.

_That's it; concentrate on hitting the ball … nice and steady. Here it comes … take a swing. BAM! Perfect line drive down the middle of the field! Now drop the bat and run like you've never run before. I'm flying past first base and making a play for second. _

_No one makes oatmeal like momma does. Fresh cream, brown sugar and plump raisins … Mmm … so good!_

_I mustn't touch. Ah, but it's so hard. What if someone hears me? Fuck them! I'm sure they do it too. Oh yeah, that's it … pump it! Up and down and around the crown. Damn, I wish I had brought my stash of girly magazines. _

_Where did he come from? Yes! He dropped the ball … keep running. Third base is history. I'm invincible! Listen to that crowd cheer me on. Oh no, that fucker caught the ball. Go for it … slide your ass to home plate. SAFE!_ _YES!_ _Calvin Donovan smashes another one of Babe Ruth's records …_

_Concentrate Red, think of Susie Miller's giant tits and being inside her wet cunt … argh … that's it. She's so goddamn fucking tight … Oh sweet mother … argh! Damn bitch! I'll bet she's the one who gave me the clap!_

_No one makes apple pie like momma does. Her flaky crust melts in my mouth. She always puts just the right amount of sugar … not too sweet or too tart. Yes momma, your Arnold has been a good boy …_

Edward chuckles and wishes that he too were capable of losing himself in dreams of glory or other sinful pleasures. Sliding his hand inside his boxers he wraps his hand firmly around his flaccid penis and tries to stimulate his member to attention. Squeezing his knob, he repeatedly runs his hand up and down his shaft but to no avail. A slight twitch is about all he can muster. Sadly masturbation isn't an option for him and it hasn't been since he became a vampire. He learned long ago that as an immortal his cock would only respond to his mate's touch. _It's definitely one of the downsides of being a vampire._

_Edward … _Carlisle silently calls to him from across the room effectively ending his unsuccessful endeavor. _Without Esme the night seems endless. How did I ever endure it without her? I estimate another six hours, fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds before dawn breaks. I've been thinking. Of course I have. What else is there to do? Perhaps you should take Robert aside and explain to him that Emmett was only playing a practical joke. If he only knew just how devoted you and Bella are to each other and that you have no sexual interest in him or his wife whatsoever it might change his surly attitude towards you._

Edward sighs wishing that he could discuss this with Carlisle. _That may have worked except that Robert heard Red apologize for giving me the clap. Why wouldn't he believe Emmett after hearing that said? Do I explain to him that I simply borrowed Red's urine because I am incapable of taking a piss and providing a blood sample of my own? How about I just tell Robert the whole goddamn truth? I can just picture his reaction when learning that not only am I a vampire but hey, by the way, I'm your father too! What would he think of me then? That I'm crazy? No, I'll just have to find another way to make things right between us. _

Edward exhales and stares at the bunk bed above him where his son lies sleeping peacefully. Robert's waking thoughts have been bad enough and have caused him considerable distress. So much so that Edward has made a point of not listening to his thoughts or dreams anymore. Since making the unwelcome discovery that he and Edward were to be bunkmates and 'battle buddies', Robert has been polite but cold and aloof. He continually misconstrues all of Edward's friendly gestures as being something entirely else. Instead of mending fences as Edward had hoped, all of his efforts thus far only seem to have added more bricks to the growing wall between them. Robert even went so far as to take Corporal Fantauzzo aside and ask to be reassigned to another recruit. When the corporal inquired as to why and Robert was unable to provide him with a satisfactory explanation, he then handcuffed him and his son together until the lights went out. Robert had flinched and openly glared at him whenever his flesh brushed against his cool skin. Sitting beside his son as he struggled to cut up his food and eat with his left hand, take a leak and later stand next to him inside the cramped bathroom stall as he defecated, did little to lessen the widening gap between them.

"Hey, Henry," a voice whispers from across the aisle. "Are you awake?" _I think it's safe now. _

Quiet for a human but not for a vampire, Edward listens as Butch's feet touch the floor and shuffle in his direction while carrying his heavy duffle bag. Its contents of metal flasks filled with booze clink and rattle when pushed together with the bottles of aspirin and other various medications. Before making it halfway across the room, Edward stands blocking his path while holding his own bag filled with contraband.

Startled by Edward's outstretched hand that stops him dead in his tracks, he mutters, "Christ Henry, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack! Come, follow me."

Curious as to where Butch is leading them, Edward dutifully follows him out of the bunk quarters. Peering both ways down the dimly lit hallway for any sign of movement and finding none, he scurries across like a rat and opens the door to the locker room.

"Please don't tell me this is where you plan on hiding this stuff?" Edward asks in disbelief, straining to keep his voice low.

With a cocky grin, Butch replies, "It's no coincidence that I've been stationed in C-Company. My cousin Harold, whose father also happens to be my uncle – the base commander, did his basic training here a couple months ago. We spoke before he was shipped out."

"Is your uncle in on this?" It's extremely hard for Edward to believe that a high-ranking official would jeopardize his livelihood and reputation to make a few measly extra bucks on the side.

"Fuck no!" Butch emphatically says, his voice echoing as they walk past several rows of metal lockers. "He'd probably skin me alive and Harold too if he were to find out. But ultimately us Bumpass's stick together and I'm positive that he'd find a way to save my sorry ass. After all haven't you heard the expression, 'blood is thicker than water'?"

"Yes I have and it most certainly is," Edward agrees and chuckles knowingly.

Butch comes to a halt in front of a narrow, beat-up locker on the far corner of the room with the number '69' etched on its door. The metal door begins to creak loudly when he tries to pry it open. Reaching into his bag, he sprays a lubricant on its hinges. He runs his finger along the inner seam until he finds what he's after and produces an old key dangling on a string.

"Walla," he excitedly exclaims and immediately heads over to a small utility closet a few feet away. "After they expanded the locker room and built the new storage room, they no longer used this dinky closet for anything. It's the perfect hiding place."

Twisting the key inside the keyhole, the door opens and just as he said it would be, it's empty. There is enough space and then some to hold his entire stash of goods. In no time they empty their duffle bags and neatly stack its contents onto the shelves. Before locking the door and returning the key to its hiding place inside the locker, he grabs two packs of cigarettes and tosses one over to Edward.

Edward's perfect reflexes catch it. He slowly shakes his head with indecision. "I've recently quit." _But_ _I could sure go for one now. _

"Really?" _Why would anyone do a thing like that?_ This is a foreign concept for Butch to grasp. "Well then … give it to someone who does and be sure to let then know that you can get your hands on more. They ration cigarettes here and if someone happens to run out … let's just say it ain't pretty."

_Carlisle was right. Getting involved with Butch probably wasn't the greatest idea. What was I thinking? _

**.**

**.**

It's nearly impossible to ignore the blaring sound of the bugler's trumpet as he plays 'Reveille' inside the barracks at dawn's first light. One by one the overhead lights flicker on down the long rectangular room. Reflexively each man, especially those on the top bunks, covers his eyes with their arm or pillow as a growing chorus of groans and protests rise. It's fair to assume that most aren't used to being woken at 4:30, but not so for the two vampires who are already up and dressed with their beds already perfectly made.

Clad in a sleeveless, white t-shirt and boxers, Robert swings and lets his legs dangle over the side of his upper bunk bed. With eyes closed, he stretches his arms high above his head and releases a strangled yawn. Rubbing his eyes, he then gasps when catching sight of Edward closing his locker door.

Edward turns around to find Robert openly staring at his head with his mouth hung open. _What's wrong? _His hand flies up to his head and he is shocked to feel the silky texture of hair running through his fingers. Reopening his locker, he stares at his reflection in the small mirror. Only yesterday his hair was completely shorn off but today … today it is back to its normal length. As if that wasn't bad enough, his hair has returned to its normal bronze color. _Oh shit! Shit! SHIT! _Touching his face, he is relieved to find that it's still as smooth as a baby's bottom. _But then I'm normally clean-shaven. _Edward glances across the room to find Carlisle mirroring his startled gaze. All of Carlisle's blonde hair has grown back too!

_Well if this isn't a bloody cock-up Edward! _

A slew of heads begin to turn and gawk at them as he and Carlisle rush out to the hallway and into the locker room. Staring at themselves and each other in the mirrors over the sinks, they simultaneously sigh in disbelief and growing resignation.

"How the hell are we going to explain this?" Edward dares to ask out loud as a few of the men hurry inside to use the urinals.

_Give me a minute … _

"Myers! Fawkes!" the unmistakable voice of Sergeant Little booms from the doorway.

"Time's up," Edward whispers.

With Corporal Fantauzzo closely riding the ass of his superior and with most of C-Company behind them, Edward and Carlisle stand to their full height and come to attention.

"What the hell have you two ladies been up to last night?" he snidely asks. "Would you care to explain how your hair has come to be back on your heads?"

"This had better be good Carlisle," Edward mouths in a voice too low for human comprehension.

"Did you say something Myers? Speak up!" the sergeant bellows.

"No Sergeant Little, sir," Edward respectfully answers and lets out a weak cough.

"I'm still waiting, …" he says while impatiently tapping his foot on the tiled floor. "I'm warning you. I am not a patient man."

Carlisle and Edward grimace and exchange glances, each hoping the other comes up with some sort of logical explanation that will satisfy the masses that are anxiously listening.

"Um … well …" Carlisle stammers. For once in his nearly three hundred years he is at a complete loss for words.

"You see Sergeant …" Edward interjects, giving it his best shot. "Well, the unusual hair growth could very well be caused by the new vitamins my cousin and I recently started taking in preparation for the rigorous Army training that we anticipated. The advertisement promised amazing results in just one short week … 'renewed vigor and amazing strength'. Only I hadn't read the possible side-effects."

_Brilliant Edward! That is as good an excuse as any that I could come up with. _

Widespread whispering and sporadic guffaws spread amongst the rambunctious crowd. Even the corporal is sniggering but resumes his dignified demeanor as soon as the sergeant flashes him a grave warning. Remembering the last time he bristled his superior's wrath, he wisely chooses not to stoke his ire. Spinning around, Sergeant Little brings the bullhorn from his side to his mouth.

"Silence!" his voice booms loudly. "Go back to your quarter's ladies and start primping for my inspection."

It's a wonder that no one is crushed in the stampede to get back to the bunks. Approaching Carlisle and Edward with equal parts suspicion and optimism Sergeant Little excitedly licks his lips, rubs his hands together and leans forward.

"You are to stop taking these vitamins. Do I make myself clear? Furthermore I expect them to be in my hand within the hour." _Perhaps it's a miracle cure for baldness? _He runs his hand over his smooth head.

"Yes, Sergeant Little, sir!" Edward successfully suppresses his mirth. For Carlisle's ears only, he murmurs, "Not a problem."

"Well hell, it better not be a problem, private!" the sergeant indignantly bellows. "Now I want you two divas to report to the barber pronto and afterwards you are to rejoin the troops over at the obstacle field. Don't skedaddle or else."

_Or else what? And how is it possible that he heard me? _

Lingering by the doorway, Robert and Skip share a head-scratching moment when overhearing the clipped exchange between the sergeant and their bunkmates. If Robert thought Henry a bit peculiar before, he has just graduated to being an all-out outlandish freak of nature after this latest episode; the same goes for his cousin, Oliver. Robert shudders when remembering both are distant cousins of his. When the locker room door suddenly swings open, they rush back to their beds to await the sergeants almost certain disapproval.

"I'm impressed Edward. That was quick thinking on your part," Carlisle commends as they walk the mile or so to the administration building where the barbershop is located. "But I suspect that we're going to be in the same predicament tomorrow morning and again on the next and so on and so forth. I should have realized that any changes we make to our physical appearance would only be temporary …" _I wonder how long the iodine will remain in our system? _

He glances over at Edward, paying close attention to his face and bare arms. _The sky is too overcast to know if it's still working or not. _

"What explanation are we going to give tomorrow?" Carlisle asks. When Edward doesn't answer, he slows down. "You haven't said a word since we left the locker room."

"My son hates me." Coming to a halt, Edward stands dejected, his face crestfallen. "It was bad enough when Robert was under the misassumption that I wanted to swap wives or worse, have sexual relations with him. And let's not forget that he thinks I have the clap by having had sex with Red. But this time, I can't even point the finger at Emmett. In reality, it all comes down to the fact that my son is human and I am not. How stupid was I to ever believe that we could actually forge a genuine relationship?"

"I'm sure you're mistaken." Patting his shoulder, Carlisle feebly tries to comfort his son.

"Have you forgotten that I've heard his thoughts? I know precisely what he thinks of me – and you for that matter." Edward taps his forehead with his forefinger.

"So you're not going to be best friends," Carlisle says, trying to be magnanimous. "Let's remember why we're here in the first place, shall we?" _To protect Robert from harm. _

"Maybe we shouldn't interfere," Edward solemnly says, taking Carlisle by surprise. "What if possibly being wounded or worse is his fate, his destiny so to speak? Should we be playing God and alter the chain of events in his natural life course?"

_I am so proud of you, son. You have matured so quickly for an immortal still so young._

Carlisle emits a sigh. "I've often wondered that very question myself. Although we have the means to influence the outcome of human events the way we desire, should we do so? Is it morally right?"

"Exactly!" Edward exclaims. "You really do understand."

"Yes, I do but …" Carlisle sighs once again.

"But what?"

"Even Jesus had a mother … need I say more?" he asks in such a way so Edward can reach his own conclusion and wraps his arm around his son's shoulder.

_Carlisle is right. Bella would never agree to idly sit by if either one of our children were directly in harms way. She'd move heaven and earth to protect them if that's what it took … and she'd never forgive me if I had the chance to do so but didn't. _

"As usual you are right, Carlisle. What would I do without you?" With the building in sight, Edward sprints ahead.

_I pray you never know the answer._

**.**

**.**

Inside the barber's room there are a handful of officers patiently waiting to sit in their chairs. Upon entering Carlisle and Edward raise their hand to their foreheads and respectfully salute their superiors before waiting their turn by the door. There is no mistaking the confusion on the officer's faces when they take notice of the two new privates and their full heads of hair. With nothing better to do, Edward listens to their inner monologues.

_I'll bet those two are Sergeant Little's men … undisciplined and unscrupulous just like he is._

_How on earth did they get through yesterday without getting their regulation haircuts?_

_This time I'm gonna make sure my boys in B-Company obliterate his in C-Company. Nothing is going to give me greater pleasure than to wipe that smug face off of that arrogant little asshole! _

_I wonder if they know my nephew, Buford. Damn, I ate too much of his mother's goddamn cheese and now I don't feel so good. _

No one is more surprised to see Edward and Carlisle than the two barbers, Mario and Luigi, who had shaved their heads the previous day. Mirroring dual expressions of incredulity mixed with growing alarm, they turn their attention back to their work but have difficulty focusing.

_How is this even possible? Yesterday the bronze headed one had a full head of dark brown hair. _

_I'd stake my life on the blonde being the same guy that I had nicked when shaving. But then that didn't really happen. Cuts can't heal that fast. _

"Ouch!" the base commander hollers, his hand flying up to his chin. "What the hells wrong with you, Luigi? You've never cut me before."

Startled, Luigi reaches for a white cloth and immediately applies pressure to the small wound. Bright red drops of blood are dripping from the base commander's hand.

"I'm so sorry, Corporal," Luigi cries. "My hand … I don't know what happened. It just slipped."

Luigi glances over at Edward who is blatantly staring at the blood with what he interprets to be 'longing'. He quickly makes the sign of the cross over his chest. _Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Is it possible that my Aunt Marina was right all along? They really do exist and walk amongst us … _Nervously he lifts his blade to finish the last couple of strokes of the commander's shave but jumps back when the senior officer suddenly darts out of his chair.

"Damn, I hope this doesn't need stitches," the commander snaps, removing the towel and finding that he is still bleeding.

"Carlisle," Edward's lips quickly move. "We have a little problem. One of the barbers suspects what we are."

"I'm terribly sorry Corporal …" Luigi laments his penitent remorse, frequently shifting his fearful eyes back to Edward and Carlisle. "I assure you sir that it will never happen again …" He follows the commander to the door while continuing to apologize profusely.

"He's just scared Edward," Carlisle answers, keeping his voice low. "Listen to his heart race. Just smile and try to act normal and he'll soon dismiss his suspicions as being ludicrous."

"Normal? Surely you don't mean that," Edward snickers imagining how Luigi would react if his crazy thoughts were confirmed.

_Don't be obtuse Edward. You know exactly what I meant. _

After the officers are finished with their haircuts and have left, Mario gestures for Edward to come forward and take a seat in his chair. Saying a silent prayer, Luigi reluctantly turns around and signals for Carlisle to do the same. Seated side by side, the two barbers carefully tie the plastic aprons around their necks and inspect their equipment before proceeding. As the steady hum of the clippers remove the locks of hair from their heads, Edward and Carlisle listen to the barbers conversation. Masking their words in their native tongue, they are unaware that that both men understand them as they are fluent in Italian having spent a great deal of time in that country.

"Why do you suppose their hair grew back so fast and in different colors?" Mario nervously asks.

"It's better you don't ask questions, Mario, unless you do not want to live a long life," Luigi admonishes his friend.

Hoping to prove his theory wrong, Luigi purposefully touches the back of Carlisle's neck but recoils when feeling the coolness of his skin. _In Volterra there are legends but I always thought they were merely stories made to warn children from wandering off on their own. What are they doing here? _

"Do you get to go back to Italy often?" Carlisle asks the frightened man.

Shaken when being addressed by the mythological creature, the electric clippers suddenly slip through Luigi's fingers. Carlisle's razor-sharp reflexes easily catch the wire before it hits the floor. Smiling and flashing his pearly white teeth, he hands it back.

The color effectively draining from his face, Luigi replies in an unsteady voice, "I haven't been back since arriving in this country."

"Luigi, have you forgotten your brother's wedding before the war?" Mario innocently says not noticing that his friend is gesturing for him to be quiet. He continues by adding, "Luigi's father is the mayor of Volterra. It's a beautiful little village in southern Italy."

"How very interesting," Edward comments, a smile forming on his lips when seeing Luigi's eyes widen like saucers. "Maybe someday I'll have to pay a visit." _What are the odds on him being from Volterra of all places?_

A few minutes later with his head once again shaved, Edward glances over at the clock on the wall and hops out of Mario's chair. He and Carlisle have five minutes remaining until Sergeant Little expects them to be out on the field. As it is over a mile away, they will need to hustle.

"Thank you Mario," Edward says, rubbing the remaining stubble on top of his head.

"Yes, thank you Luigi," Carlisle echoes.

In unison the two barbers silently nod. Luigi, in particular, exhales a huge sigh of relief once the strange men, who he suspects are not men at all, take their leave for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

_Dear Lord, please let this be the last time I ever lay my eyes on either of those two. _

Edward chuckles when hearing Luigi's silent prayer to the Almighty. _Yes Lord, please grant him his wish. _

**.**

**.**

Once a safe distance away from the cluster of buildings, Edward and Carlisle accelerate to vampire speed, a necessity, as it would take much longer to get to the fields at human celerity. To anyone who might happen to take notice, they'd already be long gone by the time they blinked a second time. With the obstacle field now in sight and three minutes to spare, they lower their speed to a normal brisk, human pace.

"Please keep in mind Edward that the purpose of basic training is to shape and mold men into soldiers that are both physically fit and mentally prepared for the rigors of war," Carlisle frowns at his own words. "Well, at least as best as one can be. I don't think we should draw attention to ourselves out on the obstacle course by performing well. In fact, it might be best if we actually do poorly."

"Agreed," Edward says in a clipped voice. "Why don't you go on ahead Carlisle? I have to make a quick stop inside to get the bottle of vitamins."

"All right," Raising a questioning brow, Carlisle adds, "Hurry."

Darting inside the barracks Edward quickly scans the hallway before heading straight to the locker room. With no one around, he retrieves the key from inside the locker and opens the small utility closet. On the top shelf are several different bottles of pills; calcium citrate, sodium bicarbonate and hidden behind the aspirin is a single bottle with a vitamin label, its seal broken. The sound of the door being opened and footsteps racing to the toilet stall prompts Edward to grab the bottle and get the hell out of there.

Outside, the morning sky is dreary and gray. A few drops of rain sporadically fall but it is a welcome reprieve from the unseasonable warmth of the past week. Joining Carlisle at the end of the long line, Edward observes Sergeant Little as he walks the course checking on the serviceability of the obstacles. Corporal Fantauzzo is busy working his way down the line and placing the recruits into four-man teams.

"Myers! Fawkes!" the corporal yells. "Come here and pair up with your battle buddies. NOW!"

Edward quickly joins Robert. He is with Calvin Donovan and his battle buddy, the same beefy, heavily muscled bully who had started the altercation with Butch over the trunk. Recognizing Edward, the bully frowns and introduces himself as being Arnold with a last name too long to pronounce. Carlisle is positioned near the front of the line with his battle buddy and bunkmate, Skip, along with two others who Edward hasn't met yet.

All eyes are fixed on the first two teams as they race against each other and the clock. Paired against a much larger recruit, Butch uses his small stature to his advantage and effortlessly slithers to the top of the climbing ropes and down again, moving onto the next obstacle and giving his team the early lead. Next up is Carlisle and Skip's team. Edward watches with amusement as his father purposefully hops through the tire strips on wonky legs and spectacularly falls down on his face, breaking one of the lenses on his thick glass frames. Skip's speed and agility has him easily sailing over the hurdles and he is the sole reason for their team's win. Edward overhears Skip boasting to Carlisle how he was on the track team in high school back in the day.

As they wait their turn, Robert notices the bottle that Edward is holding in his hand. "Are those the so-called miracle vitamins?" he asks skeptically. "Do you mind if I take a look at them?"

"Sure." Edward hands over the bottle and watches closely as Robert pops open the lid and tilts the opening so that a few of the little white pills fall in his palm. The letter 'L' is embossed on them and they differ from those pictured on the label. Edward's mind starts sifting through the pages of his pharmacology textbooks to determine exactly what they are.

Sliding the pills back inside the container and resealing the lid, Robert slowly shakes his head. "You do know that these aren't vitamins, don't you Henry?" Robert grimaces.

From the perplexed expression on his battle buddy's face, Robert briefly wonders if Henry isn't aware that the pills aren't vitamins after all. He then adds, lowering his voice, "It's Luminal, a barbiturate often prescribed for seizures, anxiety or for those who have difficulty sleeping."

"How do you know that?" Having already surmised what the little white pills are, Edward wonders how his son could possibly have knowledge of this information.

_I sure as hell am not going to admit to Henry that I am quite familiar with this drug and that I relied on it in the past. _Shuffling his feet and staring at the ground, Robert replies, "I once had to take one when auditioning for a role that I desperately wanted. It helped take the edge off my nerves. Why do you have them?"

Seeming to appear out of nowhere, Sergeant Little stretches his hand and snatches the bottle away from Edward. "I'll take these," he says snidely. _Miracle vitamins … I'll see about that for myself. _

Before Edward can object, the sergeant opens the lid and swallows two of the pills. Placing the small bottle inside his shirt pocket, he then marches to the front of the line and swings around to address his platoon. Edward and Robert exchange knowing looks as their team moves closer to the front of the line.

"I forgot to pack the vitamins that Oliver and I were taking so I purchased these from a source on base," Edward explains to Robert, making it up as he goes along. "But we haven't taken any yet."

"Well, this is about to get interesting," Robert chuckles and quickly adds, "If I were you Henry, I'd try to figure out a way to get that bottle back in your hands and dispose of those pills before our illustrious leader figures out that they aren't vitamins."

Edward observes Sergeant Little as the minutes tick by. He is anxious to complete the obstacle course and somehow reclaim the bottle. Five minutes pass and then another five. As the drug enters the sergeant's system, his mannerisms begin to change, subtly at first and almost imperceptible to the others but not so to Edward and Robert. As the minutes tick by his eyes begin to gloss over, his speech slurs and his gait becomes unsteady. To anyone else watching it would appear as if the good sergeant was inebriated. As heads slowly start to take notice of his increasingly peculiar behavior, each person elbows the next one in line.

Carlisle's earlier admonition for practicing restraint is the furthest from Edward's mind when the buzzer goes off. He and his team surge forward onto the obstacle course. Flying like a bat out of hell, Edward leaves the others behind and soars to the top of the ropes and drops to the ground before sprinting through the zigzag tires at an unseemly fast speed. The entire platoon is wildly cheering him on from the sidelines, everyone that is except for Carlisle who is silently screaming for him to stop showing off. Slithering his body like a serpent through the tunnels he grabs hold of the low rails, climbs up and over the cargo nets, slides across the parallel bars and sails over the twenty-foot wall making it all look like a piece of cake.

_Damn it Edward! You're supposed to be doing this worse than a HUMAN would! _

Carlisle's words finally register. Edward purposefully stumbles and slows when running the last fifty yards towards the finish line. Even so when he crosses, Corporal Fantauzzo is staring at his stopwatch in astonishment.

_I don't fucking believe it … Myers just broke the Army record!_

Sailing right past the corporal, he heads straight for Sergeant Little who is listing precariously to the right. Catching him before he falls, Edward successfully removes the bottle from his shirt pocket with no one the wiser.

**.**

**.**

The platoon is enjoying a reprieve in the afternoon after having survived the obstacle course when Edward receives orders to report immediately to Dr. Morgan's office. He shrugs when answering Carlisle's questioning gaze. On his way to the administrative building for the second time in one day, he walks at an irritatingly slow speed for a vampire but takes advantage of the extra time to contemplate why he has been summoned.

_If this has anything to do with my hair growing back overnight, surely they would have asked for Carlisle too. Or perhaps the doctor merely wants to check on how I am responding to the experimental new drug, Penicillin? Yes, that must be it. _

Inside the lobby, Edward waits at the elevator as the stairs have been roped off with a sign that says they are making repairs. Spotting Sergeant Little being pushed in a wheelchair down the hallway and into the infirmary, he quickly turns his back around and prays that he hasn't noticed him. He feels a stab of remorse for his part in the sergeant's present condition and is genuinely thankful that no real harm had been done to him. When the elevator door opens Edward steps inside.

Standing outside Dr. Morgan's office, Edward takes a deep breath before knocking on the door.

"Come in," Dr. Morgan calls to him from inside.

Putting on his best poker face, Edward turns the door handle and enters the doctor's office. Edward is pleasantly surprised to find his beautiful Bella sitting, with her spectacular legs-crossed and visible to him, on a chair. She gives him a radiant smile in return. Bella is his very own oasis in the middle of the desert and manna from heaven combined and he is a starving man ravenous for her touch. Forgetting about the grim-faced doctor seated behind his desk, Edward takes three short strides and lifts his wife out of her chair. Wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and pulling her close to him, he begins to feel his manhood stir. Although he understands the need for the blonde wig she is wearing, he still wishes he could bury his nose in her chestnut brown hair and savor her unique, sweet fragrance. Swooping down, his mouth claims hers. His lips linger far longer than one might consider appropriate and soon the good doctor is loudly clearing his throat to try and get their attention. Reluctantly Edward releases his hold and guides Bella back to her chair before lowering himself in the seat beside her. Stretching out his arm, he takes her delicate hand in his and with the other he discretely adjusts his pants. _Could it really only be twenty-four hours since we were last together?_

"I'm sure you're both wondering why I've asked you to meet with me this afternoon," Dr. Morgan says, quickly getting down to business. _They seem genuinely happy to see each other. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. _"Rather than a cold and insensitive phone call from a stranger, I find that these things are best handled in person and between the two parties directly involved." _And it gets me off the hook … _

His gaze falls to Edward before settling uncomfortably on his wife. "As you are aware, Mrs. Myers, as a requirement before entering the service of his country, your husband submitted to a complete physical that included both a blood and urine sample."

Having previously discussed the details of Edward's so-called physical and knowing everything that transpired at the bar while at the Aragon Ballroom this past weekend; Bella is certain where this conversation is heading. Signaling her willingness to play her part in this ridiculous charade, she gently squeezes her husband's hand and is answered when he responds in kind. A familiar and longing ache deep within her is caused by Edward's close proximity. _I desperately need to be alone with him. _

"Is everything all right?" she asks the doctor with concern in her voice. "Is there something wrong with my Henry? Please, doctor, tell me that he is well."

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he replies, "Yes, with medication Henry is going to be just fine … and so will you. You see … we discovered something in your husband's urine sample and I'm afraid that you need to be treated as well."

Slowly Bella turns to Henry, her face puzzled, and releases his hand before giving him a discrete wink and commencing her Oscar-worthy performance.

"Whatever is he talking about, darling?"

Edward closes his eyes, feigning a pained expression. "Please Adele … you have to let me explain." His eyes nervously dart over to Dr. Morgan. "Would you mind terribly if I spoke to my wife -alone?"

"Yes, but of course," Dr. Morgan exhales the breath that he'd been holding, his relief evident in not having to be the one to reveal his patient's extramarital indiscretion. "I have to check on a few patients in the infirmary. I'll be back soon."

Rivaling the speed of a vampire, Dr. Morgan leaves the room but instead of going to the infirmary as he said he would, he lingers outside in the hallway in case he needs to intervene should they quarrel and it escalates or so he tells himself. Truthfully, he's simply curious as to how this will play out.

Not wanting to waste a single second of their time alone together, Edward and Bella rise from their chairs and immediately they are all over each other like a rash. Wrapping his arms around her tiny waist, he presses and grinds his throbbing erection against her midriff setting her body ablaze.

"We have an audience, my love," he whispers softly and tilts his head towards the door. "Are you _up_ for it?" he asks suggestively, swiveling his hips just so.

Rising on her toes, she invades his mouth with her tongue and nods before raising her voice for the doctor's benefit. "You're frightening me Henry. Just spit it out. Tell me what's wrong with you."

"There is no easy way to say this darling, but I have the clap," he answers just as loud. "Which I'm afraid, means that you do too."

Loosening the strings of his athletic pants, she plunges her hand deep inside and slips her fingers through the opening of his boxers. Greedily she wraps her fingers around his wide girth and squeezes him gently. Edward moans loudly in response.

"Argh!" she cries out at the top of her lungs, her voice resembling a wounded animal and slowly begins to strokes his length. "I can't believe this Henry! You bastard!"

Running his hand underneath her dress, he massages her shapely derriere and tugs on her panties. When they won't come off fast enough for his liking, he rips them off.

"I'm sorry but this is going to be quick," he breathes in her ear and slides his hand to her groin. Raising his voice, he replies, "I'm so very sorry my darling. Will you ever be able to forgive me?"

Deftly finding her opening, he inserts two fingers inside her and circles her moist walls while rubbing her clitoris with his thumb.

Bella groans loudly. "Who was she Henry? Tell me! Who was the little whore?" she screams as his fingers find her tender spot and repeatedly circles and rubs, quickly bringing her to the edge of her release.

Edward tilts his head back as Bella expertly glides her hand up and down his thick shaft, paying particular attention to his knob. On the brink of his imminent orgasm but believing that ladies should always come first, he reluctantly removes his hand from her groin and pries her fingers off of his cock.

"I don't know! There were so many!" he hollers towards the door.

Edward smiles when hearing a thud outside the door. Bella caresses his cheek before summoning crocodile tears and mouths 'I'm sorry' before slapping him hard across the face.

"How could you Henry!" she shrieks.

Lifting her on top of Dr. Morgan's desk, he spreads her legs apart and positions the tip of his cock with her entrance. Holding her thighs firmly, he pushes forward until he's balls deep inside his favorite place. He pauses, savoring the sensation.

'Oh dear God' … he softly breathes, his breath hitching.

Bella releases an agonizing wail. She braces herself with one hand on his forearm and the other holding onto the edge of the desk. Edward begins rhythmically pumping in and out of her and with each thrust increases his speed. Sending her soaring to dizzying heights, she suddenly loses her grip on the desk and knocks over a stack of files onto the floor.

"Oh yes baby, yes!" she softly coos. "I'm almost there. _Please!_"

Holding on by a thread, he yells, "What do we do _NOW?_" His last word a plea for her let go.

"Oh Henry, none of it matters. I still love you!" Bella shouts out as a powerful orgasm shakes her core.

"Darling, I love you too!" Edward echoes, feeling her walls squeeze his pulsing cock. He follows suit, joining her into euphoric bliss. "We will work this out."

Temporarily satiated, he quickly withdraws, prematurely ending what surely would have continued on for a lot longer. "He's coming back inside …" he grunts.

Before Dr. Morgan touches the door handle, Edward and Bella have already composed themselves and stand innocently embracing each other. Wearing a smug grin the doctor pats himself on the back for having made the right decision and saving yet another marriage.

_Dr Freud has nothing on me …_

* * *

**A/N: So what are your thoughts? Are you enjoying this story? Do you want me to continue? Speak now or forever hold your peace.**


	9. Chapter Eight

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: So … where did we leave off when we last saw Bella and Elena? Hmm … oh yeah, Edward was 'consoling' Bella at Dr. Morgan's office and Elena was about to embark on her exciting new career. **

**Smacks and bumps to my beta T, Lovin Rob before jumping in!**

* * *

Jack and Jill

Went up the hill

To fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down

And broke his crown

And Jill came tumbling after.

Chapter Eight

Removing the piece of paper from the typewriter, Bella adds it to her ever-growing pile. A few more chapters and she'll be finished writing the sequel to her bestselling novel 'Starlight', continuing the saga of Henry and Adele and their family of vampires who just so happen to bear a striking resemblance to her own. It is loosely based on hers and Edward's own love story and the many obstacles they have had to overcome in order for true love to prevail. Considering that her main characters are separated throughout most of the sequel, she ponders what the title should be.

_Dark Skies? Black Hole? Moonlight? _

One of the many advantages of being a vampire is not needing to sleep or take frequent human breaks but after working the past twenty-four hours straight, she decides to take one nonetheless. Pushing back her chair, she rises from behind her desk and stretches her arms high above her head. Gazing out the tall, ceiling-to-floor window she listens as the water rhythmically laps against the pier posts and watches as a barge ship crawls down river. Farther still and due to her sharp auditory senses, she detects the hustle and bustle of the city that include cars and buses out on the roadway and the throng of people going about their everyday lives. Turning on the radio to drown out the silence of her apartment, she raises the volume of Jimmy Dorsey's popular song 'Tangerine'. Caught up in the catchy melody Bella begins to sway back and forth and sings along.

… _and I've seen_

_Toasts to Tangerine_

_Raised in every bar across the Argentine_

_Yes, she has them all on the run_

_But her heart belongs to just one …_

It's been over a month since Carlisle and Edward left for nearby Fort Sheridan. Had it not been for the arrangement she and Edward hastily agreed upon before parting Dr. Morgan's office their present separation would be far more difficult to bear. The decision to meet in the cover of night at the forest preserve a few times each week was necessary and in more ways than one. Doing so has kept them from going crazy without each other. As they so often do these days, her thoughts turn to her son and husband and she finds herself wondering if things have improved between them.

_Damn you Emmett! You may have thought your inappropriate and inaccurate insinuations to Robert was amusing but they weren't – not at all. Not in the least and you've done so much damage. I wonder if you even care. _

Shortly after the 'incident' at the Aragon Ballroom, Esme, Rose and Emmett packed their belongings and left for Washington State so as construction could start on the new house. Bella finds herself missing Esme's steadfast cheerful disposition and zealous encouragement. A trace smile spreads across her face when realizing that she even misses Rose, something she never thought possible. Closing her eyes, she recalls the aftermath the following morning after the incident.

_Seated at the kitchen table, Bella feels the intensity of Esme's gaze fall upon her before turning back to Rose. She and her sister are at an impasse; a stalemate and neither one is willing to budge, much to their mother's dismay. Disappointed by her children's behavior the previous night, Esme is patiently waiting for a response to her request. Bella stubbornly folds her arms and Rose defiantly rolls her eyes. _

"_I can wait as long as it takes," Esme says, slowly tapping her fingers on the tabletop and leaning back in her chair. "Need I remind you that Carlisle has often said that 'patience' is one of my strongest qualities? We will not hunt until this matter is resolved."_

_A half hour passes … and another … and then another. _

"_Oh all right!" Rose exclaims loudly, her conscience and thirst having gotten the better of her. "I suppose that Emmett and I could have conducted ourselves better."_

"_You suppose, do you?" Bella says snidely. "I think you and Emmett deliberately sabotaged and ruined the evening for Edward and me knowing how important it was to us."_

"_Pray tell, why would we do that?" Rose arches her brow. _

_Bella releases a shrill laugh. "Why is it that you and Emmett say and do half the things you do? It's so obvious that you two are jealous of us."_

"_Jealous, of you?" Rose sneers as if she has smelt something foul. "Get over yourself! Do you really think that I'm jealous because Edward was careless and knocked you up when you were human resulting in those two spoiled brats of yours who …"_

_Bella jumps to her feet, her temper flaring. "How dare you! You don't know Robert and Elena!"_

"_Neither do you," Rose dishes back. _

"_GIRLS!" Esme pounds her hand down on the wooden table like a gavel, breaking off a corner piece. She has reached the end of her unlimited patience. "I want this pettiness to stop RIGHT NOW! Rose … Bella, you must know how much I love you both. You are the daughters I always wanted but never thought I would have," her voice quivers. "The same goes for Emmett and Edward and I fear that if you continue on this destructive course, I foresee nothing but dark times ahead for all of us. Unlike other covens that so easily fold and turn on each other because they value nothing more than dominance and self-preservation in their never-ending quest for human blood, we've been able to do something extraordinary because of our commonly held beliefs … and that is we've risen above our circumstances and have held onto our humanity. Our lives are more meaningful as a result. We've always drawn our strength from each other and that has made all the difference. In every way that counts we are a family and family stick together." _

_An uneasy silence descends as her words slowly begin to sink in and shame and remorse sets in. Leave it to Esme to cut to the chase and get to the heart of the matter. It's been a source of pride to all three women that none of them has ever taken a human life nor even tasted a single drop of human blood, each for their own reasons. From the moment she became immortal Esme enthusiastically embraced her mate's ideals and lifestyle without complaint, thankful to have been given an alternative. And it's no secret that Rose would have preferred to remain human had she been given the choice even if it meant choosing death. When newly born to this life, Bella once was tempted by the sweet scent of a human's blood but not wanting to be responsible for their demise and the cause of their loved-ones misery, she voluntarily removed herself from the situation, an unheard of thing for a vampire to do._

"_I'm truly sorry Bella!" Rose cries and rises to her feet. "You are right about me. I AM jealous of you – jealous of yours and Esme's deep bond – jealous that you've experienced creating a life with the man you love. Something that Emmett and I will never do. I am a wretched excuse of …"_

"_I'm sorry too Rose," Bella interrupts, throwing her arms around her sister. "It's not entirely your fault. I've been insensitive to your feelings, not realizing how very difficult it's been for you from the start. It was wrong of Edward and I to assume that you and Emmett would simply go along with whatever we wanted without having asked."_

_If either were capable of tears, they would be flowing freely at this point, including Esme. With arms held wide open, she reaches and embraces both her daughters and mouths a prayer of thanksgiving._

"_Can we please start over Rose?" Bella tentatively asks. "I would be honored to have you as my sister."_

"_Yes, I would really like that," Rose replies, a smile touching her lips. "And I didn't mean what I said about Robert and Elena being spoiled. They've turned out fairly well, all things considered."_

"_Thank you for saying that," Bella whispers just as dawn breaks over the river. Golden rays of sunshine spread its warmth, gently enfolding them in a tender embrace._

Its horn blaring, the barge ship draws closer to the docks returning Bella from her reminiscing. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, in a flash she finds herself in the bathroom. It's high time that she ventures out of the apartment and perhaps by doing so, she'll catch a glimpse of her daughter. Bella reaches for her blonde wig on the counter. Securing it in place she quickly applies her make-up. Once satisfied Bella selects a pastel pink cotton dress with a delicate white lace collar from her closet and matching pumps and clutch bag. Taking no chances, she grabs her long white gloves and wide-brimmed hat, her disguise complete. Returning to the oval mirror, she admires her transformation from vampire – Isabella Cullen to human – Adele Myers.

With the keys to Carlisle's Oldsmobile in hand, she closes the outer building door behind her. In keeping with the whole human pretense and feeling rather bold, she opts to drive for the very first time – ever, rather than walk. Sliding into the driver's seat, she closes her eyes and concentrates for a moment remembering the sequence of steps Carlisle went through in order to operate the vehicle. She starts by lifting the key.

_How hard can this possibly be? _

Giddy with excitement, Bella finds the slot on the side of the steering column and squeals with delight when the key slides right in. Turning the key forward, she is encouraged when the engine purrs to life.

_Gee, that wasn't so difficult … _

Studying the automatic gear lever mounted on top of the steering column, she notes that there are several letters and numbers. They are, from left to right and in the following order;

** 1**

The thin black strip is positioned over the **P**.

_**P **__must stand for 'Park'. _

Looking down at her feet she finds two pedals directly beside each other. When pressing her foot down on the right pedal, the engine angrily roars but when she transfers her foot over to the other pedal, nothing happens at all. Easing up on the pedal while moving the gear lever to the next letter on the steering column – **R, **the car slowly starts to roll in reverse. She presses her foot all the way down on the right pedal again and this time the car surges backwards and heads straight for a telephone pole. A cool head and razor sharp reflexes spare Carlisle's prized Oldsmobile from becoming scrap metal. Slamming her foot back to the left pedal the car comes to a screeching halt with only inches to spare between it and the pole.

Bella isn't smiling anymore. _Carlisle made it look so easy. _

With her foot still on the left pedal, she moves the gear lever to the **N **position and eases up on the pedal. The vehicle doesn't move, not even when pressing the right pedal.

_**N **__must stand for nothing! _

She plants her foot firmly over the left pedal and moves the lever to the **D **position. This time she can feel the car strain to move forward. Ever so slowly, she applies pressure to the right pedal while simultaneously turning the wheel to the left. In seconds she is steering the Oldsmobile out into the street.

_Yes! I'm actually driving! _

Having mastered the fundamentals without having caused irreparable harm to Carlisle's treasured possession, Bella is soon smiling and speeding merrily down the road and into Chicago's busy business district. Her destination - the office building of Masen and McGuire.

~BtBB~

It's been an incredibly busy day but then again, Kat chuckles and reminds herself that _everyday _is a busy one at Masen and McGuire. Over the past month she and Elena have arrived before anyone else and were always the last ones to turn off the lights at the end of the day. Together they completely immersed themselves into nothing but work in preparation for this very day. Today is the day that Caleb Thornton officially steps down and turns the reins over to Elena. To say that Elena is apprehensive about filling his lofty shoes would be putting it mildly but Kat has every confidence in her friend's ability to run this company especially with herself by her side.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Kat puts down her pen. It is almost three o'clock; time to make sure everything is ready for the office party being given in Caleb's honor. Knowing of his unpretentiousness and aversion to being the center of attention, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he suspected their intentions and tried to sneak out of the office early. Popping her head in Elena's office, Kat is taken aback to find that she is looking out the window and clutching a handkerchief.

"What's wrong?" Kat asks with growing concern.

"Nothing, everything, oh, I don't know exactly." Dabbing the corner of her eyes, Elena slowly turns around. "Everything has happened so fast. I keep asking myself if I am ready to do this and I'm really going to miss having Caleb around. Why must he retire so soon? Plus I miss my brother. I wish we had more time to spend together before he left. Would you believe that Robert is only allowed one five-minute phone call each week and it seems he wants to use them all up speaking only with Kristen."

Kat knows Elena well enough to know that this mood of hers will eventually pass. It always does. Momentous occasions often seem to trigger this type of reaction in her. What her friend needs right now is a little comforting and Kat is more than willing to lend a shoulder. Kat extends her arms and Elena falls into her embrace. Tenderly she strokes Elena's silky smooth hair and inhales her sweet fragrance.

"There, there Elena," Kat softly coos. "Caleb would not be leaving if he didn't believe you were ready and for Christ's sake, Robert and Kristen are newlyweds! Being apart has to be so very hard on them. You can't begrudge either of them for wanting every second. Maybe you should start writing to Robert."

"I suppose …" Elena replies, reluctantly returning Kat's hug before releasing her. "You're right as always."

"When will Kristen be leaving for New York City?" Kat asks, relieved to see a smile forming on Elena's luscious pink lips. "She did accept the role in that big Broadway play, didn't she?"

"Yes she did but I don't think Kristen had much of a choice in the matter. I swear my brother can be bullheaded at times. She probably accepted the role just to shut him the hell up."

Elena chuckles knowing all too well how persistent Robert can be when he sets his mind on something. She's remembers the time when they were eight years old and her brother announced that he was old enough to be allowed to go to the city alone and without any supervision. Their grandma, rather than argue, decided to play along and secretly had Uncle Arthur follow him from a distance. Their Uncle reported that Robert had gone to Schaller's where he downed two root beer floats and Fieldstrom's Nickel and Dime Emporium where he used up the rest of his money purchasing the latest Buck Rogers and Bomba the Jungle Boy comic books, three packs of baseball cards and enough bubblegum to last an entire year before wandering to parts of the city where he'd never been before. Uncle Arthur was just about to reveal himself when Robert walked up to a policeman. He later said that the ride home in the back of the squad car was the highlight of his entire adventure.

Kat waving her hand in front of Elena snaps her out of her memory.

Startled, Elena continues, "I believe Kristen is leaving just as soon as Robert is done with his training. I think she's hoping that he gets a weekend pass before his regiment ships out."

"For the sake of true love, I hope she gets her wish. How about we step outside for a bit of fresh air?" Kat suggests. Without waiting for her reply she grabs hold of Elena's hand and tugs. "And I don't want to hear your smart mouth tell me that there isn't any in the city. I need your help with something."

"How so?" Elena asks and blows her nose in her handkerchief. Retrieving her purse, she dutifully follows Kat out of her office.

"Well let me see … Judith and Mary Jane are busy getting the dining room ready," she explains as they step into the hallway. "The caterer's downstairs are on their way up with the food platters and the bakery has just delivered the cake. But I'm afraid I overlooked something rather important that I know Caleb will love."

"Send out an all points bulletin! Katherine Hughes is not infallible after all!" Elena laughs as she picks up her pace trying to keep up with Kat.

Momentarily distracted by a handful of secretaries inside one of the side offices clucking like a bunch of hens, Elena doesn't notice Quinn who is walking in the opposite direction with his eye's downcast buried inside a file. He isn't paying attention to where he's going either. Peals of laughter emanating from inside the chicken coop startle him. Looking up, he comes to an abrupt halt but it's too late. Having stepped into his path, Elena collides with him.

_**THUMP! **__**CRASH!**_

In a split second Quinn must choose between letting his paperwork fall to the ground and scatter every which way or save Elena from tumbling on her bottom. Quinn opts for the later. Kat, who is several feet ahead of them, turns around just in time to see Quinn wrapping his arms around her boss, as do the secretaries who dash into the hallway. And he's holding her close to him … a little too close. Like magnets neither one moves. A pang of jealously stabs at Kat's heart while witnessing the electricity that is sparking between them.

Internally, Kat is screaming. _No, no, NO! I'll have to nip this in the bud. He's not right for her!_

Quinn breaks into a full-fledged, all-American, boy next-door smile and as a collective, the secretaries audibly sigh and their eyes gloss over in carnal admiration of his movie star good looks. Pleased by the turn of events in his otherwise drab day, Quinn chuckles.

"Well at least this time, it wasn't me who blindly tackled you." He quickly jokes, "I've heard rumors that you still work here Elena but not having seen you in quite some time, I was uncertain as to whether those rumors were true or not."

Annoyed by Quinn's flip remark and flustered by his close proximity and her traitorous body's strong reaction to his, Elena pushes him away. "I believe you are exaggerating Mr. McGuire. Since my office is directly across the hall from yours all you had to do was stop in to find out for yourself. But in case you are the type who falls prey to idle gossip," she pauses glancing over her shoulder at their swooning audience and takes another step away from him. "I plan on being here for a very long time."

_Why does he have to be so damn handsome? I'll bet he probably has a string of girls at his beck and call … Casanova! Oh no! I can hear it now. We've become office fodder for the staff!_

"Oh I do hope so," he mutters. Showcasing his well-defined back muscles through his form-fitting shirt, he bends down and starts to pick up his papers. Another round of stifled gasps from the peanut gallery ensues. "Don't you think Mr. McGuire is ridiculously formal under the circumstances? Please call me Quinn. I am rather curious about one thing though."

"Only one? How disappointing. You'd best remember that curiosity killed the cat … _Quinn,_" she quips, emphasizing his name and lowering herself to his level. She glances over to find him grinning like a loon. _Oh great … he finds me amusing._

"Alright two," he readily admits, making eye contact with her. "What matter of such great importance caused you to finally leave your sanctuary and come plowing into me and secondly, why is a beautiful young woman, such as yourself, spending all of her time alone in said sanctuary? That can't be healthy."

Elena is temporarily rendered speechless, her eyes fastened on his impossibly perfect face. With great difficulty she forces herself to look away.

"Listen, you may think you have me pegged but you don't really know me … _Quinn._"Gathering as many of his papers as fast as she can, Elena nervously stuffs them into his folder and shoves them at him. "I don't owe you any explanations … only an apology for not watching where I was going. And furthermore … don't presume that because I've been holed up in my so-called 'sanctuary' working my ass off that I'm some sort of nun."

"Aren't you though? When was the last time you spent an evening away from this place?" he asks with a mischievous sparkle in his eye and an ulterior motive. "Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy'? Tell me Elena. What do you like to do for fun?"

"Hardy har har, _Quinn,_" she sardonically says, rolling her eyes at him. "Wouldn't you like to know? Is there no end to your patronizing wit?"

_No one is perfect. We all have flaws. What are yours Quinn McGuire? A tiny cock perhaps? _Her eyes fall to his shoes and she blushes recalling having heard somewhere the supposed correlation between the size of a man's feet and his member. _Oh my!_

Taking her by surprise, he suddenly places his hand over hers and she feels it again, that inexplicable spark pulsing between them. She gasps when, looking up, she finds his piercing blue eyes intently gazing into her green ones.

"Now I'm the one who is sorry Elena," he says with remorse. "That wasn't my intent. I only asked because I really would like to get to know you." His face reddens and he quickly adds, "Especially since we both plan on working here for a very long time."

Moved by his sincerity, Elena removes her hand from Quinn's and in a conciliatory tone, she replies, "Well I … I do like to take long drives in the country and …" she pauses unsure whether or not to continue this conversation here, in front of an audience.

"And …?" he prompts for her to continue. "Tell me and then you can ask me anything."

Elena sighs knowing that she'd never be bold enough to come straight out and ask him what she'd really like to know. _Is there someone special in your life?_

Having witnessed and heard enough of their little tête-à-tête and not liking where it's heading, Kat rudely interrupts. "Come on Elena. I'm sure that _Quinn_ can manage quite well on his own." Kat tugs hard on Elena's arm and begins dragging her down the hall.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Quinn calls out to them while admiring the view as Elena is ushered away. "Was it something I said?"

Elena apologetically shrugs and gives him a small smile. Before turning the corner, she glances back once more to find that Quinn has been surrounded by and is being fawned over by the cluster of hens, both young and old alike, who are only too happy to volunteer their services.

Once inside the elevator, Kat squares her hips and lets Elena have it. "In my humble opinion and for what it's worth, I say the less contact you have with Quinn McGuire the better. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree and I don't trust his father." Switching tactic's she then pleads, "And please, please tell me that you have no intentions of socializing with Quinn outside of the office."

Elena releases an exasperated sigh. "Oh please Kat, don't you think you're being just a little paranoid, not to mention judgmental? It wasn't as if I planned on running into Quinn and besides Ian has been so kind to me since I've been here. Only yesterday he stopped by to check in on me and …"

"Ian?" Kat interrupts and her mouth drops open in surprise. "Since when are you on a first name basis with that snake? Where the hell was I when he slithered his way into your office?" she says, her voice rising.

"For Pete's sake Kat, calm down." Elena shakes her head. "I think it's important that I establish a friendly, _working _relationship with both father and son. After all we are equals."

Elena immediately regrets her poor choice of words when seeing Kat wince.

"Oh I see how it is, Miss Masen." The elevator door opens and Kat storms out. "Forgive me, your lowly assistant, for having your back!" Without turning around, she races through the lobby and out the front doors to the busy sidewalk.

Elena catches up to her just as the traffic light changes and they cross the street. "Hey … Come on Kat. You know what I meant. I'm sorry. You know how I feel about you."

"Do I?" She hisses back.

Kat comes to an abrupt halt just outside of the Olympic Diner and takes a deep breath, needing to calm down. The little bells on the door jingle as she opens the door and steps inside.

"I hope I'm not too late. They're usually sold out by this time on Friday."

"Why are we here? Didn't you order enough food?" Elena questions Kat and inhales the mouth-watering aromas wafting from the kitchen. A heavenly blend of baked breads and freshly brewed coffee hovers overhead.

It's standing room only inside the small entry of the popular diner across the street from Masen and McGuire's office building. There is a steady buzz from patrons who are chatting amongst themselves while patiently waiting their turn in line to pay their checks or pick up their to go orders. The two extremely busy waitresses are in perpetual motion and it's a wonder that they don't drop their trays as they navigate a narrow pathway to the row of booths off to one side. Breaking protocol, Kat is shot lethal glares when she weasels her way to the front of the line. Clutching her purse, Elena follows close behind and apologizes profusely for her friend's rudeness as she goes.

Once at the cash register, Kat finally offers an explanation. "I want to give Caleb something special to bring home. This is where I buy our lunches everyday and where I've bought his favorite pastry. He absolutely _loves_ their cannoli." She points to the tops shelf in the bakery case when the young girl behind the counter comes over. "Hello Bridget. Oh thank goodness you still have some. Can I please have a dozen to go?"

"Sure thing Kat," Bridget says. "You're in luck because that's all there is."

Reaching behind for a thin cardboard box, Bridget wraps each one of the tube-shaped pastry deserts filled with sweet creamy ricotta cheese and sprinkled with powdered sugar. She carefully places them inside the box.

"Christine is not going to be happy about this. She's been trying to put Caleb on a diet for some time now." Elena stares at Kat in disbelief. "Honestly, this is why you needed my help?"

"Yes," Kat replies in a clipped tone. "You see my slave driver of a boss had me work straight through my lunch hour today so I wasn't able to go and cash my pathetic excuse for a paycheck. And since your good pal, Ian hasn't granted me the authority to use the company account for outside purchases, that's where you come into play."

"Oh dear God!" Elena snaps and rolls her eyes. She turns to Bridget who seems to be enjoying their banter and starts digging through her purse. Handing her a ten-dollar bill, she leans over and whispers to Kat, "I haven't been given that authority yet either, Miss Smarty-pants."

Spinning around and heading for the door, Elena catches sight of a familiar face sitting over at one of the booths. She immediately changes course until she's standing directly in front of her.

"Hello Adele," Elena says warmly. "How are you? I didn't realize you planned on staying in Chicago. If I'd known, I would have asked you to come visit. I'm certain Kristen would enjoy seeing you again and my grandma and Aunt Clara love company."

"It's good to see you again too, Elena," Bella replies, her spirit buoyed by her daughter's friendly greeting. "Truthfully, I hadn't planned on staying but with Henry stationed at Fort Sheridan, I thought I might stay on a little awhile longer and also to see what Chicago has to offer. Would you care to join me?"

Elena turns to find Kat impatiently waiting for her by the door. "I can only stay a minute. We're having a surprise retirement party for …"

"Caleb Thornton!" Bella finishes her sentence much to Elena's surprise. "I'd met him and his lovely wife, Christine at Robert and Kristen's wedding. I remember her mentioning that she hoped he'd soon be retiring," she quickly explains.

"Oh, I see," Elena answers and shuffles her feet. "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you come back to the office with me? We can continue our talk more and I can show you my new office. You can wish Caleb well and meet the rest of my family too. That is, unless you have other plans."

Opening her purse, Bella takes out a few coins and places them beside her full cup of cold coffee. "That sounds absolutely wonderful. Thank you. My apartment has become much too quiet for my liking."

"I would love a little solitude myself," Elena murmurs. "What about Esme and her niece and husband? Rose and Emmett, right? Are they still in Chicago?"

Sliding out of her booth, Bella shakes her head. "No, they've gone on ahead to Washington. I may join them later when Henry is sent overseas. We'll see. My plans aren't set. For now I'm taking advantage of the silence to finish writing my book."

"You're a writer! I didn't know that," Elena gasps and grabs hold of Bella's gloved hand. "Does Christine know this? You do know that she is in publishing, don't you? She'll be at the party too," she rambles on as they exit the diner. "Isn't it amazing the way things have a way of working out?"

"I'd like to think that it's a combination of God and fate at work," Bella replies, following close behind Elena.

Elena stops short. "You definitely have to meet my grandma and Aunt Clara. They'd adore you. I've heard them say the very same thing many times."

_If only I could tell you why that is, my sweet daughter … _

**.**

**.**

The offices of Masen and McGuire haven't changed all that much since the last time Bella was there. Other than a fresh coat of paint it still smells much the same to her; leather and money, a reminder of how powerful and wealthy the Masen family was and apparently still is. An attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties is seated at the large reception desk. She smiles warmly at the trio as they enter.

"Gail, this is Adele Myers," Elena says making the perfunctory introduction. "She'll be joining us this afternoon."

"Hello," Gail replies politely. "Shall I call everyone into the dining room now, Miss Masen?"

Elena frowns. No matter how many times she's asked Gail to call her by her given name, she still refers to her as 'Miss Masen'.

"Has Mrs. Thornton arrived?" Kat inquires. "She is supposed to have come early to make sure Caleb stays put."

"She's in with him now Kat," Gail chuckles. "That was good thinking on your part because he almost slipped past me. I think he suspected that we were going to make a big fuss over him and hoped to dodge. Thankfully, Mrs. Thornton cut him off at the pass and made up some lame excuse to get him back to his office."

"Yes Gail, please make the announcement," Elena says with a distinct air of authority. "Kat, I'll meet you in the dining room. Adele, come with me. I have to get something from my office first."

Kat shoots Elena a questioning expression and raising her hand to her brow, gives her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." Clicking her heels together, she quickly marches off in the opposite direction still clutching her box of cannolis.

Bella's eyes widen when stepping inside Elena's office that is much more lavish than the other offices they had passed. It comforts her to know that her daughter is being treated well and has an office reflective of her prominent stature. Bella is appreciative of Caleb, certain that it is his doing. Knowing that Ian McGuire still sits at the helm and how he felt about running the company alongside Edward, she had imagined quite a different scenario for Elena if Ian had had his way.

_Maybe he realizes what an asset Elena is. Hmm … but does a tiger ever truly change its stripes? _

While Bella is admiring Elena's office, Elena heads straight over to her desk and unlocks the top drawer, removing a sleek thin black box.

"Caleb has been a Godsend to my family and I will never be able to express my gratitude for all that he has done. He has run this company with integrity and honor and if our bylaws hadn't been set in stone, Caleb should have made full partner. He deserves so much more than this token gold watch."

"I'm sure he'll love it," Bella says admiring the expensive Rolex.

"I think they're ready for us now, beautiful."

They are interrupted by none other than, Ian McGuire who leisurely strolls inside Elena's office without knocking. From the expression on his face, Bella surmises that he is surprised not to have found Elena alone.

"Hello Miss ...?"

"_Mrs._ Henry Myers." Bella cast him an icy cool smile. "I'm a 'friend' of the Masen family."

Memories of when she first met Ian come flooding back. How he disrespected Edward and herself when he made assumptions and inappropriately came on to her. A thousand years could pass by and she will never forget the humiliating way in which he treated her at Edward's funeral. How he publicly dismissed her as being only a 'friend' and playing some sort of twisted 'game' after she confessed to being Edward's wife. It takes everything in Bella's power not to attack this mean and dare she say evil man as it becomes crystal clear to her that this particular tiger has not changed his stripes one iota. _He had better steer clear of my daughter!_

Ian openly stares at Bella as if he's trying to pinpoint where he may have seen her before. "A friend? Yes, well …" he stammers and dismissing her, he turns his attention back to Elena. "Caleb's been roped and tied so to speak," he says laughing at his own quip. "I suggest that we head on over before he makes his escape."

**.**

**.**

Bella can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Caleb. Watching him it's obvious that the man is uncomfortable. But as the minutes pass and each employee stops and conveys his or her heartfelt wishes for his future endeavors, his mood begins to lighten. Even Ian stopping by on his way out after making a brief appearance doesn't mar his spirits.

"Sorry to see you go, old boy," Ian says and playfully slaps Caleb's shoulder. "Don't you go worrying about Elena." He winks. "I'm going to make sure that she's well taken care of."

Quinn, who is standing behind his father, stretches his arm and shakes Caleb's hand. "I wish we had worked together longer, sir. I do hope that you'll enjoy your retirement."

With his eyes cast on Ian's, Caleb replies, "Why thank you Quinn. I would have liked that as well. I'm pleased to know that you more resemble your dear mother. Please give her my regards when next you speak to her."

"I most certainly will," Quinn assures him. His gaze falls to Elena.

Ian chuckles and hastily steers his son out the door.

By the time the cake is sliced, it's fair to say that Caleb isn't the only one enjoying himself. Earlier when Bella left her apartment, she had hoped to catch a glimpse of her daughter but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that she'd be included in Elena's inner circle. Happy doesn't even begin to describe how she felt when she was seated between Elena and Christine with Caleb and Kat on opposite ends and Renee and Aunt Clara directly across from her. As close as she and her mother once were, at first Bella feared she might be recognized, even wearing a disguise, but thankfully that hasn't happened – yet. Reassuring herself that even if her mother were to find her familiar in some small way, she would never put two and two together. After all, her 'Bella' would be far older than Adele is. _ I have absolutely nothing to worry about. _

"Did Adele tell you that she writes?" Elena turns to Christine, excitedly divulging this juicy tidbit.

Christine immediately perks up. "Are you published Adele?"

"Ah … um," Bella stammers, unsure exactly how to respond. Christine is completely unaware that Bella, who is posing as Adele, goes by the pseudo-name Anthony Charles, one of her publishing house's, The Little Brown Company, best selling authors. Slowly she shakes her head. "I'm sorry to say that no, I'm not, at least not yet."

_Technically that is the truth. 'Adele' is not a published writer. _

"What are you working on, if you don't mind my asking? I'm always searching for new, promising talent." Christine's eyes glaze over, excited at the prospect of discovering the next great American novelist such as F. Scott Fitzgerald or John Steinbeck.

"This and that … nothing in particular," Bella shifts uncomfortably in her chair. "I guess I can't exactly call myself a writer if no one reads what I write. I should probably find a real job that actually pays something."

Reaching for her purse, Christine whips out a business card. "Well if you would like me to read a sampling of your work, here is how you can reach me."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you," Bella replies and tucks the card inside her purse.

Aware that her mother has been studying her for the past few minutes and that she's incapable of holding her tongue much longer, Bella silently starts counting to ten, waiting for the inquisition to begin. In the past she's never made it past six.

_One, two, three, four, five … _

"So Adele," her mother says, raising her brow.

Bella smiles. _Record still stands. _

"Kat was telling us before you arrived, that your husband is a distant cousin of my grandchildren. On the Masen side, of course. How fascinating!" Renee gushes. "Years ago my daughter and I traced both mine and my husband's lineage back quite a ways."

Bella had been a student in Mrs. Hanselman's third grade class when her mother turned a simple school project into a quest of epic proportions. All that was required of her was to draw a tree and write down the names of as many family members as she knew on cutout apples and paste them on its branches. Needless to say, by the time Renee was finished, Bella's project more resembled a giant raspberry than a tree. Knowing her mother's tendency to embellish stories and having heard her retell this particular one so many times before, Bella smiles and leans forward.

"Bella and I discovered that we have noble blood running through our veins on my side of the family. We are descendents of Marie Antoinette and George Washington." Aunt Clara's eyes widen at this recent revelation as do Bella's, her smile fading. "But my poor Charlie, God rest his dear soul, his great-great-great grandfather, I forget how many greats there were, I'll have to ask my daughter when I see her later. Well, he was the captain of the pilgrim ship, The Mayflower. We also unearthed a few scoundrels in his lineage such Jesse James and John Wilkes-Booth."

Had she heard her mother correctly? _She's going to talk to her daughter? _What Bella found amusing only a minute ago has quickly turned to alarm. For a brief moment she catches a dreamy, far-away expression cross her mother's face. Her eyelids flutter rapidly, resembling the filament of a light bulb flickering on and off with indecision. Just as quickly as it starts, it passes and recognition returns. A glance at the others around the table tells her that they too have noticed.

"I'd love to have seen the expression on Charlie's face when learning he was related to such notorious criminals." Aunt Clara exclaims and gingerly pats her sister's hand.

Bella is rendered dumbstruck. Why is her aunt humoring her mother? Her dad hadn't been related to either of those rogues or to the captain of any ship … not even a dingy. There is no noble blood coursing through her veins. No one of particular significance or consequence was found lurking in either of her parent's background. What is going on with her mother? Is she not well? Has she lost her mind?

Uncomfortable with all eyes watching her, Renee pushes back her chair and abruptly announces in a clipped voice, "We should be going now Clara."

Elena springs to her feet. "Aunt Clara, might I have a quick word with you?" She turns to her grandma. "Would that be all right? It will only be a minute or two."

"Yes, yes, of course dear," Renee replies sweetly. Sliding her chair back under the table, she gives Bella a wary smile and says to Elena, "Go ahead child. It will give Adele and I a chance to finish our little chat."

With one ear listening to Elena and Aunt Clara's whispered exchange from the other side of the room and her mother's incessant ramblings, Bella is convinced that something is indeed amiss with her mother.

"This hasn't been one of her better days, has it Aunt Clara?" Elena asks. "Tell me, have you found someone to stay with her a few days each week as her doctor suggested?"

"No I haven't and she was doing fine all day up until now." Frowning, Aunt Clara emits a woeful sigh. "My sister insists that she doesn't need a nursemaid – at least not yet. She was rude to everyone I met with who responded to my advertisement. And to be quite honest, Elena, I'm not all too comfortable with a stranger in our home. Do you really think it is necessary?"

"You cannot be with her all the time and these 'episodes' are happening more frequently," Embracing her distressed aunt, she says what she knows she won't be able to argue with. "With Douglas away, Tillie needs your help more than ever in caring for your grandchildren and we cannot possibly ask Mrs. Browning to take on more responsibility."

Aunt Clara slowly nods and reaches inside her purse for her handkerchief. "It's a shame that we have to grow old. Oh to be young forever …"

With their arms wrapped securely around each other's waists, they return to the table.

"Adele," Renee says reaching for Bella's gloved hand, her eyes shining bright and clear. "I have enjoyed meeting and talking with you today my dear. I would so love it if you were to come and visit me soon. Please promise me that you will."

"I look forward to it Mrs. Swan." This is one promise that Bella fully intends to keep.

A thought suddenly crosses Elena's mind when watching the ease in which her grandma is conversing with Adele. Thinking that the answer to her prayers might be right in front of them, Elena decides to put her idea into motion and approaches Adele as soon as her grandma takes her leave with Aunt Clara.

_A combination of God and fate at work …_

* * *

**A/N: I'd be interested to know your thoughts or theories? Don't be afraid to drop me a line and by all means, let me know if you are enjoying this story. Anyone? Never cared much for the sound of crickets chirping. **


	10. Chapter Nine

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: I'm sure by now you've noticed that I've been alternating chapters between the boys and the girls. It's the boy's turn now. **

**Many thanks to my Beta T, LovinRob. You've been a rock and an inspiration to me!**

* * *

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Chapter Nine

Lying on his bed Carlisle watches as Butch slithers over to Robert. Without saying a word, Robert removes an empty flask from under his mattress and hands it to Butch along with a couple of bills tucked underneath. In return Butch gives him a full flask of whiskey before retracing his steps across the darkened room. The tip's of Butch's boots having stuck out from under his bed causes his foot to catch the metal bedpost. Stumbling forward, he hops haphazardly in circles on one foot. While rubbing his big toe he silently mouths a steady stream of expletives. Emitting a sigh, Carlisle turns his attention to the mattress above. After tossing and turning for the past hour Skip has finally fallen asleep. Concentrating on his steady breathing pattern Carlisle surmises that it won't be very long before it increases in both intensity and volume.

A lesser person might have taken enjoyment by pointing a finger and laying blame but that is not in Carlisle's nature. Never one to say 'I told you so', Carlisle has thus far held his tongue and purposely curbed his thoughts while around Edward. After all he doesn't need to be a mind reader to recognize the immense guilt that his son has been carrying around. But seeing as enough time has gone by and the situation hasn't resolved itself as he had hoped it would, Carlisle has come to the conclusion that he can no longer remain quiet. Silently he calls out to Edward.

_Edward, hasn't the well run dry? I believe that something is troubling Robert and that is why he's been drinking. I'm afraid that sooner rather than later he won't be able to hide it anymore. I shudder to think what will happen to him when that happens. In all probability he'd be sent to the stockade. Then there would be a court martial followed by a dishonorable discharge … Well, I think you get my point._

_I think you should intervene before it gets that far by asking Butch to stop selling his contraband to Robert. That should effectively put an end to his self-medicating - for now. I know you've said that you want to give Robert privacy by not listening in on his thoughts and I respect you for that but perhaps you should reconsider. Much is at stake and Robert's future is at risk. _

Edward winces knowing that he is responsible for his son's present condition. Ever since the vitamin episode with Sergeant Little six weeks ago, Robert has become Butch's number one client. Cigarettes, booze and a few other questionable items have kept a smile on Butch's smug face. Initially Robert limited his imbibing to when the lights went out but recently he's begun consuming during the day as well. Edward cannot deny that Carlisle is correct in his assessment. If Robert continues on this destructive path it won't be a matter of 'if' he's discovered but rather 'when'.

_At least try talking to him. I've noticed that Robert has been less hostile towards you lately and no, I do not think it's because of the strong drink. Have you tried listening to Skip's thoughts? After all they are close friends. Perhaps he can shed some light as to what is troubling Robert. _

Carlisle lifts his head and glances over at Edward. Slowly Edward shakes his head in answer to Carlisle's inquiry. Having already randomly scanned Skip's thoughts and dreams, Edward knows with certainty that Robert has not confided in his friend nor is Skip aware of Robert's present condition. As if on cue, Skip suddenly snorts and startles. Clutching his thin blanket he roughly turns over to his other side and drifts back to sleep. Envying his escape from the tedious inertia that is found in dreams; Carlisle slides his hand underneath his pillow and removes the letter he received earlier at mail call. Carefully unfolding the thin paper, he rereads Esme's letter again, suppressing his feelings of foreboding and perpetual longing.

**15, July 1942**

**My dearest, darling Carlisle, **

**How are you my love? Really and truly, how are you darling? Don't even think of giving me your flip response by saying that you are 'fine' thinking that will somehow reassure me. I know you too well Carlisle Cullen. It is your nature to want to shield me from all unpleasantness and worry but I wish you wouldn't do that. You should know by now that I am not fragile and do not need sheltering. Let me help shoulder your burdens and make them lighter. That will help me feel closer to you while we are apart. But now that I have asked that of you, it's only fair that I do the same.**

**Other than missing you terribly for which there is no cure my love, I am keeping busy. Rose and Emmett send you their regards. Now that Emmett has cleared the grounds and dug the basement for our new house there isn't much else for him to do. The building crew was supposed to start framing this week but they've been delayed and have pushed the start date to next week. **

Skip's breathing becomes progressively louder and culminates into a thunderous crescendo. He sputters and coughs and turns back to his other side. Carlisle quickly skims over the next section where Esme describes in agonizing detail, the flower garden that she has been planting around the perimeter of the small hunting cottage. It is the next paragraph that has him concerned and wondering whether he should leave the Army and head west.

**It seems our Quileute neighbors aren't too enthusiastic about our returning to the area. Yesterday Emmett had a little disagreement with their tribal leader, Jacob Black, when he crossed their lands instead of going the long way around. He and Rose were visiting a wildlife preserve in the southeastern corridor of the state. When they arrived they saw government signs posted along the perimeter and also on the Columbia River essentially closing the entire area off to the public. Even the native Wanapum tribe was evacuated and moved. Why do you suppose the government would do that? Sorry for my rambling on … Now Carlisle, don't you dare think of abandoning our son in his time of need and rushing to my side. Everything is fine. It's Edward that needs you. I've managed to calm things down with the Quileute's. Leave it to the womenfolk to discuss matters calmly and rationally. Even though it's unlikely that Leah Black and I will ever be friends, we do share the same goal, namely our families living in peace. So I think that makes us something more powerful … allies!**

Carlisle sets the letter across his chest and contemplates for a moment Esme's words. Although she knows of Carlisle and Edwards's last visit to Forks perhaps he had been unnecessarily discrete in his account of their time there. He sighs as he remembers it vividly. Just as Emmett had recently done, Edward also passed into Quileute land without permission, which then triggered a visit from their tribal leaders. Jacob having seen Bella, his former fiancé, heavy with child, holding hands with his mortal enemy – a vile bloodsucking vampire and discovering that it was in fact her believed-to-be deceased husband, Edward, caused the Change to occur within him. Right before their eyes Jacob had transformed into a giant red wolf. A vicious fight ensued between Jacob and Edward and when Bella attempted to intervene, her foot had caught on a tree root hurling her to the ground and into premature labor. From the sound of Esme's letter it doesn't appear that Jacob has let bygones be bygones. The question foremost on Carlisle mind is whether enough time has passed and if they'll be able to live amongst them anytime soon. Will Jacob honor the agreement Carlisle had made with the tribal leaders before him?

Esme's next paragraph has him smiling again as he envisions her face as she enthusiastically describes to him in excruciating detail, the numerous ideas she has for their new home. Once finished the house in Washington State will be their fourth home, including the 'cottage' he had built for her on Isle Esme for their first anniversary. Their very first home was an old farmhouse set on eighty acres in upstate New York, just outside of Ithaca. With Edward and Bella away attending nearby Cornell University, he and Esme were temporarily 'empty nesters'; free to do whatever they pleased. That had been a very happy time for them as a couple. The house restoration kept Esme content and busy for many months. She insisted that the outside of the house remain as rustic as they'd found it but that the inside be completely gutted and rebuilt with the latest in technology. Inside many walls were removed leaving it with an open and thoroughly modern feel to it. Of course it was tastefully and impeccably decorated.

After the farmhouse was finished and while Edward attended medical school at Yale with Bella, Carlisle and Esme set sail for Europe with the newest member of their family, Rosalie, in the hopes that it would help lift her perpetual depression. It was there, in the Surrey Hills of southeastern England where he and Esme built their next house. Perhaps because it was located in the country of his birth or maybe because the house was built on the very same land where Penelope – the only woman Carlisle had known intimately while human, had lived and died, it was Carlisle's favorite. She and her husband, Theodore Bentham, had farmed and raised his five sons from his first marriage along with another two sons born after their union. All of the boys had her husband's jet-black hair and dark brown eyes with the sole exception of Penelope's first-born son who had light blonde hair and blue-eyes. If Carlisle had been a gambling man, and he most certainly was not, he wouldn't have batted an eye in betting everything he owned on the certainty that Penelope's first son, Chilton was not her husbands. Carlisle strongly suspected that the boy had been of his own flesh and blood.

**The architect came up with the most marvelous idea, Carlisle! He suggests that we take advantage of the natural surroundings and actually construct the rear of the house into the rock wall. It will grant us even more privacy. I hope you don't mind dear, but I gave him our approval. I've also made certain that all of the materials they use will originate from the Pacific Northwest as you requested. Oh Carlisle, my darling, this house is going to be spectacular! Not only will it easily accommodate our family but also our Denali kin when they come and visit us. Wait until you see the fabric that I've ordered for the great room! In keeping with the color palette of the lush green forest, I've chosen …**

Carlisle audibly sighs, a strained smile forming on his thin lips. Past experience tells him that the interior furnishings will be expensive. Esme's impeccable taste does not come cheap. Chastising himself for his untoward thoughts, he reminds himself yet again that money is not an issue and that real estate is a good investment. But as a result of having been a bachelor for nearly three hundred years and having lived them frugally, he often grapples with what he perceives as 'unnecessary extravagance'. Through careful investing over the last few centuries, Carlisle has become a very, very wealthy man. A genuine smile replaces his forced one as he reminds himself of his good fortune in having finally found his mate.

_If owning homes around the globe and decorating them to the nine's gives Esme pleasure, then so be it. That is a relatively small price to pay for the immeasurable happiness she has brought into my life. _

**It won't be long before Army training is over and an ocean will separate us but let me reassure you that wherever you are my love, my heart goes with you. Until next time my darling … I love you. xxooxx**

**Your Esme **

Refolding his letter he slides it back inside the envelope and places it under his pillow. Closing his eyes he tries to imagines that his Esme is lying in his arms and that they've just made sweet, passionate love. Breathing in deeply his body starts to relax. He can almost feel the silky texture of her skin and smell the aroma of her unique scent. But suddenly and without warning the vision distorts and changes like the blinding flash of a camera. His mate vanishes and Carlisle finds himself alone, consumed by unfamiliar emotions, namely jealousy and envy, aimed primarily towards his son. Edward will soon be reunited with his mate while he, Carlisle, will not. Horrified and embarrassed by these feelings, he sits upright and places his head between his knees and tries to regain his composure by again concentrating on the steady rhythm of Skip's breathing. Fervently he prays that Edward hasn't heard him. One glance across the aisle tells him that he hasn't. If he had, Carlisle is certain that Edward would already be at his side. Relieved not to have been exposed, he leans over the side of the bed and retrieves his textbook on natural medicine from beneath. Thumbing through the familiar and well-worn pages helps to calm and sooth him but unfortunately it doesn't last for long. A deep-seated and long repressed instinctual need begins to push forward from the dark recesses of his mind, an incomprehensible thought that he's been finding increasingly difficult to ignore. Reflexively he swallows and ignores his thirst.

_What is happening to me? Change of any real significance is rare for a vampire. And when it does occur, it's usually due to a surge of emotion that surfaces. But can I truly say with certainty that what is happening to me now is in fact 'change' when it is the very essence of what I am to begin with? From the moment I became an immortal, I have fought the battle to live the way I saw fit and I have triumphed – or so I believed. Could the absence of my mate be the reason for its emergence or is living amongst my natural prey without pause a contributing factor? Haven't I've been in close proximity with humans for long periods of time without adverse effect? Surely, I am immune to their siren call. Why now? I refuse to surrender to the monster within … I will remain true to my beliefs and fight if need be. But who exactly am I battling with? _

Carlisle's eyes shoot open in alarm when the answer to his question manifests itself in the form of a pounding heartbeat and the pulsing of warm, sweet blood coursing through Skip's veins.

_Myself!_

**.**

**.**

Lost … that is how Edward would best describe what he feels whenever he is alone with his son, if someone were to ask him; adrift like a boat in rough and unchartered waters. Only now there is a big storm brewing on the horizon and Edward's ever-present guilt is his anchor that threatens to pull him down to the lowly depths of the ocean bottom. In an effort to grant Robert some small measure of privacy and also to protect himself from his son's disparaging thoughts and constant rejection, Edward had made a vow to himself to not listen in on Robert's mind. As a result, he now finds himself in a quandary. It all began with a pack of cigarettes he had given to Robert along with an admission that he had a connection on base that could obtain items not readily available, such as the bottle of 'vitamins'. Unaware of his son's predisposition to various methods of self-medication in the past, he fears that he has unwittingly unleashed Pandora's box.

_Maybe Carlisle is right. I should voice my concerns to Skip. Or better still I should bite the bullet and go directly to Robert. But would he listen to me?_

Slowly Robert sits up and hops down from his upper bunk bed, interrupting Edward's train of thought. With no moonlight shining through the small block windows and having downed most of his latest purchase, he somehow manages to find his way into the hallway without stumbling or falling down. Edward waits a minute or two before going after him. With superior eyesight he isn't hindered by night's darkness. From the doorway Edward peers up and down the hallway. He finds the night guard sitting back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, quietly talking on the phone.

"Evelyn baby, you know how much I love you," he coos into the mouthpiece. "Tell you what … I have a pass next weekend, why don't you book that nice hotel room for us up by the lake that you liked so much?"

Edward grins in the knowledge that in approximately an hour and a half, that very same guard will be fast asleep at his post thus making it easy for him and Carlisle to slip past so they can go to the woods and hunt. As an added incentive, his Bella will be waiting for him. Darting across the hallway, he opens the door to the locker room and is immediately assaulted by the condensed smell of cigarette smoke coming from inside one of the bathroom stalls. Venom pools inside his mouth and he forces it down, cursing his body's reaction. Edward scans the large room and breaking his vow, listens to his son's innermost thoughts.

_What the hell am I doing to myself? This has got to stop … oh fuck I think I'm going to be sick … _

Robert violently retching the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl breaks the deafening silence. Soundlessly Edward takes a few steps forward and pauses, lingering by the lockers.

_I've really got to get my act together! Hell … I'm not fifteen anymore. Haven't I already learned that awful lesson? Taking pills and getting drunk regularly isn't going to solve anything! Haven't I put my family through enough worry? And what about Kristen? She hasn't seen this side of me. Not really. I don't want to be a disappointment to her. She'd leave me … Oh Christ! I may have already lost her. I know something is troubling her … __Why won't she tell me what it is? _Being stuck in here and not knowing is driving me bat-shit crazy. 

Edward shifts position and his hand brushes against a locker door causing it to slam shut.

_Who's there?_

Deciding to make his presence known Edward walks over to the sink directly next to the outermost urinal. He turns on the faucet and a steady stream slowly trickles out. Positioning himself over the commode, he juts his hips forward, unleashes his cock and simulates urination.

_I should have guessed that Robert's behavior had something to do with his mate. Thankfully he already knows that mixing pills with alcohol isn't going to make matters better. That should make things a little easier or at least I hope it does. _

Twenty seconds later, Edward reaches over and shuts off the water and flushes. He readjusts his member inside his loose fitting pants. Returning to the sink, he washes his hands before splashing cold water over his face.

Robert tilts his head and peers through the small slit of the stall to find out who is there. He winces when seeing Edward. _Damn, it's Henry. Hopefully he hasn't noticed me._

_Sorry son, but it is time that we talk. _

"Is that you Robert? Are you alright?" Edward asks without waiting for his reply. Reaching for a paper towel, he wipes his hands.

"Yeah, just peachy," Robert sarcastically responds and flushes the toilet.

Opening the stall door, he moves to the sink. Standing next to Edward, he turns on the faucet and waits for the hot water to flow through the pipes. Casting a glance at himself in the mirror, he visibly cringes. His face is pale and his eyes are swollen and red.

"Christ, I look like shit," he states as fact.

"Well what do you expect when you drink like a fish?" Edward retorts. "Keep it up and it won't be very long until people have no trouble telling us apart. I'll be the dashingly handsome and debonair one and you'll look more like Boris Karloff."

In spite of how poorly he's feeling, Robert can't help but smile at Edward's witty remark. He finishes washing his hands, turns the water off and wipes them on his pants.

"You have to admit it though Henry, the resemblance between us is remarkable." Robert nervously runs his fingers through the chestnut brown fuzz on top of his head. "I remember my grandma saying that somewhere in the world we all have a doppelganger. I thought she was pulling my leg but looking at you, I'm not so sure anymore."

"I'm worried about you Robert," Edward confesses, getting straight to the point. Looking Robert in the eye he continues, "I never should have told you about Butch and his little side business. I am responsible …"

Waiving his hand dismissively in the air, Robert adamantly shakes his head before rudely interrupting Edward. "No you're not." Reaching inside his pocket he removes a pack of Camels and lights another cigarette. Taking a long drag, he starts to chuckle. "I thought I had slayed those dragons a long, long time ago … damn fucking dragons," he mutters. Extending his arm, he offers the pack to Edward.

Viewing it as a sign of camaraderie and knowing that it will buy him extra time with his son, Edward tilts the small container and taps until a single cigarette emerges. Leaning forward Robert lights it for him. He takes a quick puff and this time doesn't inhale. Quickly he blows the smoke out of his mouth and is relieved when the urge to sink his teeth into his son's neck doesn't materialize. _I can do this! _

"Funny the things that sometimes pop into your head," Robert offhandedly says and leans his back against the wall. Taking another long drag of his cigarette, he elaborates. "I was five when me and my sister moved to Chicago with my grandma. Thinking that he was being funny, my older cousin, George insisted there was a real, honest-to-goodness, fire-breathing dragon living downstairs in our basement. For the longest time, I actually believed him." He sighs, lost in the memory. "But I eventually got even with him …"He smiles.

To keep the conversation from veering off-topic, Edward interrupts him. "It's okay to admit that you have a problem and to get help," Edward pauses when noticing that Robert is now looking at him strangely. Turning away from his son's piercing gaze, he taps the ashes from his cigarette into the sink.

A painful silence settles between them. Edward's eyes flicker over to Robert. His eyes are tightly shut and he is holding his breath. As a result, his face is turning red. Suddenly he exhales and takes several deep-cleansing breaths.

_One … two … three … four. Breath in, breathe out. Five … six … seven … fuck … not working! _

"I _DO NOT_ have a problem!" Robert snaps. "What's it to you anyway? Who the hell do you think you are! You don't know me and I definitely do _NOT_ care to know you, at least not in the way that you want to." He pauses and glares at Edward. "I'm only going to say this one time so listen up, Henry. Just so we understand each other I am _NOT_ nor have I _EVER _been sexually attracted to men and there is _NO WAY_ in hell that I'd _EVER_ let you touch my wife!"

Relieved that the elephant in the room is finally being addressed Edward let's out a hearty laugh. "Where on earth would you get a crazy idea like that Robert? I'm a happily married man. I love my wife. Adele has been and always will be the only one for me."

"But … but …" Robert stammers, confusion settling in. "At the Aragon … that big guy … Evan, Elliot … he said …"

"Who? Do you mean Emmett?" Edward laughs even harder. "I'm afraid that Emmett is much like your cousin, George. He likes to bullshit and usually it's at my expense."

Relief washes over Robert's face. "So … you and Adele aren't swingers?"

"Only with each other," Edward smirks.

"Wait … if you're not into guys, how did you get the clap from Red?" Robert asks, still baffled and not completely convinced that Edward is being completely straightforward and truthful.

Edward shakes his head and snuffs out his cigarette. "We both had our physicals on the same day and at the same time. It was hot and I'd drunk at least a gallon of water before I left home. By the time I got there I had to piss something awful so I did. Then wouldn't you know it; the doctor hands me a cup and tells me I can't leave until I fill it for him. So I'm in the men's room staring at this damn cup and in walks Red. I told him I was empty and asked if he wouldn't mind whizzing in my cup. He was only too happy to oblige. It's just my awful luck that Red turned out to be disease infested." Edward purposefully omits the part where he stole a vial of Red's blood and passed it off as his own.

"What about that young guy you left with at the bar? Weren't you two going outside for a quickie in the parking lot?" It is just beginning to dawn on Robert that he may have misjudged Henry.

"Hell no!" Edward exclaims. "You're kidding right? I recognized the boy from your wedding. He was sitting at the bar. I knew he was underage and saw him hand the bartender a fake ID. I didn't want him to get into any trouble so I went over and told him I was taking him home. Period. End of story."

Robert's eyes widen, trying to recall the boys face but draws a blank as the boy had his back turned to him the entire time. "Tell me, Henry. Who was it?"

"The district attorney's son," Edward replies.

"Are you telling me that it was my Uncle Sam's son, Eddie?" Robert is completely floored by this revelation and especially by Edward's bold action, less so of Eddie's behavior.

Edward nods. "Yes, I believe so."

"Henry, I can't tell you how glad I am that you did what you did and got him the hell out of there. Thank you. If the press had caught wind of yet another one of Eddie's foolish antics, I'm sure it would have ruined my uncle's chances for being elected mayor this November," Robert ruefully explains. He frowns before adding, "Now if only he could somehow manage to send Sandra off to a convent school in some other state, he might actually have a real shot at winning."

_Oh Robert, if only you knew just how right you are! _

"Listen Henry, I've misjudged you terribly and feel that I owe you an apology. I've believed things about you that that weren't true and as a result, we've gotten off to a bad start." Robert extends his hand. "I'd like for us to start over." _Henry is actually a pretty cool guy. _

"Nothing would please me more Robert," Edward replies, his face beaming. Firmly he grasps and shakes his son's hand.

"Christ Henry, you have some damn cold hands!" he comments as he pulls his hand away. "That reminds me. What's the deal with yours and Ollie's freaky, fast-growing hair?"

Edward shrugs. "I honestly don't know. We are first cousins. Must be something in our family's genes." he says and quickly steers the subject away from himself. "You do realize Robert, that you cannot continue to pop pills and drink, don't you? Not only is it physically dangerous, I shudder to think what the good Sergeant would do if he were to find out."

Robert winces. Crossing his hand over his heart he solemnly vows, "I hereby promise and swear that I will not down another pill nor drink another drop of alcohol from this day forward."

Edward watches him carefully, unsure whether it will be that easy for his son to do but takes him at his word nonetheless.

"Do you think Little ever suspected that the pills you gave him weren't actually vitamins?" Robert asks. "I find it hard to believe that he let the whole incident go without a full-fledged investigation, especially after he embarrassed himself by fainting in your arms in front of the entire platoon."

Edward isn't entirely certain that the incident is in fact over, having unfiltered access to the inane rambling of the small man's twisted thoughts. But as he is unable divulge his mind-reading skills to Robert without taking two steps backwards in their newly formed friendship, he creates a plausible story that is equal parts truth and fiction.

"When I was summoned to Dr. Morgan's office later that afternoon, I'd overheard the doctor's telling the sergeant that he was suffering from a bad case of heatstroke and that the next time he plans to be in the sun he should cover his bald head. Little didn't argue with him so I'd like to think that he's dropped the whole thing."

Robert cocks his head to the side, contemplating this explanation. "Hmm … yeah, I guess that makes sense. At least you're out of the woods, Henry." He playfully slaps Edward's back.

"I've been told that I'm a good listener if you ever need someone to talk to …" Edward offers, recalling Robert's earlier inner monologue. "Take marriage for instance. I thought it would be a walk in the park once Adele and I got hitched but man was I wrong. The first six months we fought, fucked and fought again - all the time."

_But at least you could do that face-to-face … _Robert lowers his head to mask his emotions. The last thing he wants to do at this late hour is discuss his wife and her unusual behavior.

"Gee, thanks. I'll remember that." Stretching his arms above his head, Robert feigns a yawn before heading for the door. "I'm feeling much better now. Think I'll go to bed now." He holds the door open for Edward.

Edward breaths a sigh of relief and watches as Robert climbs on top of his bed and immediately falls asleep. Filled with a renewed sense of hope for some sort of meaningful relationship with his son, Edward can hardly wait to share the good news with Bella. He glances at the clock on the wall on the far side of the long rectangular room and smiles.

_Things are definitely looking up!_

**.**

**.**

Stepping down from the barber's chair, Edward flashes Luigi a full-fledged smile that showcases his perfect set of pearly white and razor-sharp teeth. His eyes widening like saucers, the poor man practically has a coronary right there on the spot. A twinge of guilt tugs at Edward's conscience for being the source of his discomfort and so he quickly closes his mouth. No matter that he and Carlisle have had a standing appointment with the two barbers every morning at four-thirty a.m. sharp, courtesy of Sergeant Little, since first sporting full heads of hair the morning after they'd been shaved. Luigi and Mario still tremble each and every time they show up. When listening to Luigi's incessant litany of silent prayers to the Almighty as he's cutting his hair, Edward often wonders what his old friend, Monk would have to say about things such as life after death and immortality, especially if he knew of his fate. Although it is highly unlikely to ever happen, Edward finds himself wishing that it were possible to have just such a conversation.

Dawn is just beginning to break on the horizon as he and Carlisle step outside and head towards the mess hall. The day promises to be a hot and humid one with lots of bright sunshine. Edward involuntarily holds his breath and watches as the encroaching rays spread across the sidewalk and covers his skin, only exhaling once nothing out of the ordinary happens. This particular morning Edward is filled with equal parts optimism and happiness. He cannot recall the last time he felt this way. It's as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Not only did he make major in-roads with his son last night but he also thoroughly enjoyed the time he and Bella spent together. In their lovemaking she had been assertive and aggressive, much more so than she usually is. Actually, she was insatiable. It was as if she couldn't get close enough to him, not that he was complaining. Edward can't stop smiling as he is swept up in the sweet memory.

"_Are we late Carlisle? Bella should be here by now."_

_Carlisle shakes his head. "Perhaps she's already hunting. I'm sure we'll catch up with her later. We should probably get started ourselves." _

_Removing the small bottle from his shirt pocket he gently squeezes a drop of iodine on his tongue before tossing it over to Edward. _

"_Let's give her another minute. Maybe she was delayed." _

_Before Edward can unscrew the bottle cap, he catches a whiff of her scent. Suddenly her arms dart out from behind him and her hands are covering his eyes. A quick hop and she's on top of his back with her legs wrapped around his waist._

"_Guess who?" _

_Feeling in exceptionally good spirits, Edward decides to play along with Bella's little game._

"_Nurse Goodman?"_

"_Really? That old cow from high school? Nope, try again." Bella starts to giggle. _

"_Heidi, at long last you've returned! I'd know those thighs anywhere."_

"_I hope for your sake that you are joking, mister! Heidi had thick thighs." _

"_Hmm … well let me check." _

_Lifting an arm, he reaches behind and gently rubs her knee. Slowly he glides his fingers up the length of her smooth, soft skin. He pauses when reaching the juncture where her private area meets his back and inserts a finger under her panties."_

"_You've got me. I haven't a clue who you are." _

"_How soon they forget!" Bella playfully smacks his head and jumps off of his back. _

"_I think that's my cue to make myself scarce," Carlisle announces. "I'll see you back at the barracks Edward. Have fun you two!" _

"_Hi! Bye Carlisle!" Bella laughs. "He's such a thoughtful man."_

"_That he is." _

_Taking her by the arm, Edward pulls her close against his chest. "So where were we Miss …umm … whoever the hell you are? I think we'd better make this quick before my wife shows up." _

_Effortlessly lifting her off the ground, he positions her legs around his midriff. Bella squeals with delight and tightens her legs, provocatively swiveling her groin against his expanding cock. _

"_You won't be needing these," he murmurs in her ear and with one swipe, tears off her panties. _

_Bella's fingers deftly move to remove his thin belt and she holds it triumphantly high above her head like a Samurai sword when his pants slide down his legs and gather at his ankles. _

"_Now what?" he taunts as he lays a trail of kisses down her neck. _

"_Tree" she's commands and nips at his chin. _

_Edward awkwardly shuffles forward until her back is pressed against an old black walnut tree. _

"_I want you … now" she says breathless, sliding her fingers down his long sculptured abdomen undoing each button as she goes. _

"_I'm all yours … take me." _

_With skilled precision she plunges her hand inside his boxers and frees his engorged member. Responding to her touch, he continues to expand and lengthen. Cradling her fingers around his thick manhood, she strokes his length several times before tightening the muscles in her thighs and raises her torso, impaling herself on him. She releases a loud feral cry as their bodies mesh together and become one flesh. _

_Lowering his head, his mouth claims hers and he kisses her long and hard with a frenzied urgency. When finally he pulls back he is pleased to discover that her eyes are wild with carnal desire that matches his own. _

"_I love you Bella," he whispers tenderly._

"_I love you Edward. For always," she echoes. _

_Her arms wrapped like tentacles around his neck, Bella cries out with abandon after each powerful thrust that he makes. Fingers pressed into her flesh, his well-defined biceps ripple as he repeatedly lifts and lowers her shapely bottom, plunging his member deeper inside her moist, tight, and welcoming walls. Consumed by touch and lost in blinding sensations as powerful waves of pure, undiluted ecstasy lift them higher to paralyzing heights before mercilessly hurling them downward … only to rise and fall and rise … again and again. Nothing else matters or exists outside of the other. Like a vine wrapped around a trellis, they cling to each other as they reach the pinnacle of their union … _

_Pulsing_

_Calming_

_Tranquility_

Edward comes to an abrupt halt as a hand tugs his arm and spins him around.

"Edward?" Carlisle says, releasing his hold and snapping his fingers in his son's face. "Are you alright? Say something."

Blinking rapidly, Edward focuses on his father's concerned face and mischievously grins.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Carlisle says with reproach.

"Sorry Carlisle." Edward stares down at his newly polished shoes, feeling flustered and slightly embarrassed. "What were you saying?"

"Never mind. It was nothing of importance," Carlisle chuckles. "Come on, let's keep moving. We don't want to be late and miss the delicious breakfast spread that the Army lays out, now do we?"

"Absolutely not. Wouldn't want to miss that," Edward replies sarcastically, moving beside Carlisle who has quickened his pace.

"So where were you just now if you don't mind my asking?" Carlisle wonders exactly what or who is responsible for Edward's good mood. _Robert or Bella? That's a tough call but my bet is on Bella. Lucky bloke!_

"I'm pleading the fifth," Edward says, smiling. "Can't I just be happy? For once everything is going smoothly. Life is good!"

In less than a fraction of a second, Carlisle catches Edward off-guard and encases his neck in a chokehold, playfully rubbing his hand repeatedly over Edward's newly shorn head. While struggling to free himself, Edward catches sight of two armed MP's a quarter mile away escorting Butch and three others, including Robert, out of the mess hall with their hands handcuffed behind their backs. Carlisle follows Edward's gaze when he suddenly stops squirming. Immediately he releases him.

"You were saying?" Carlisle says, sighing deeply.

"Life sucks," Edward says eating his words.

* * *

**A/N: Well that's too bad, isn't it? Sometime life gives you lemons and when that happens, I say make lemonade! There were a lot of good and not so good things happening in this chapter. Esme's letter … Carlisle's inner turmoil – hey what's with that? … Robert and Edward's heart-to-heart chat, not to mention some hot lovin!**

**I'd really love to hear your thoughts and observations to help keep me motivated. **


	11. Chapter Ten

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: ****Stephanie Meyers owns everything Twilight.**

**A/N: I've often thought that it has to be hardest on those left behind when one's son or daughter, brother or sister, husband or wife answers the call of duty to serve their country, most especially during times of discourse and war. **

**Heartfelt thanks to my wonderful Beta T, Lovin Rob!**

* * *

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells, and cockle shells,

And pretty maids all in a row.

Chapter Ten

"_If this is any indication of how much you miss me, we should spend more time away from each other," Edward teases._

_Partially clothed, their limbs tangled, they lie together on a soft carpet of moss under the black maple tree replete after having made love. _

"_Well then, perhaps I should leave now," Bella stirs. _

_Edward's strong arms pull her back down, cradling her back to his front. "It sounded good in theory but on second thought, it's an atrocious idea."_

_Sighing contentedly, Bella snuggles closer and traces patterns over his forearm with her finger, savoring the soft texture of his skin. "I am dreading the long separation ahead of us. I honestly don't know how Carlisle and Esme can bear it." _

_A long contemplative silence follows._

_Edward sighs deeply. "I've been so caught up in my own concerns that I hadn't considered how being separated is affecting them. I am an awful son." _

"_Don't ever let Esme or Carlisle hear you say that! Edward Cullen, you are the most caring, compassionate and loyal person I know, not to mention funny, adorable and incredibly sexy."_

"_I'd prefer that they not think of me as being 'adorable' or 'sexy'. You are quite prejudiced when it comes to me, Isabella Cullen. But that is one of the many things that I love about you." _

"_I'm not prejudiced my love. I just see the truth."_

_Edward smiles and kisses the top of her head, "I have some wonderful news to share with you."_

"_So do I."_

"_Ladies first …"_

"_I've heard from Elena. We've set up a tentative schedule for my visits with my mother. Tomorrow afternoon will be my first. I never, ever in my wildest dreams thought it would actually be possible to spend time with her again. I'm both excited and apprehensive at the same time. Edward – what if something goes wrong? What if she doesn't remember who Adele is because of her illness or worse? What if she recognizes me as being her long, lost daughter? What if the iodine stops working and I start to glow? What if …"_

"_Shhh … you worry too much," he leans over and silences her with his mouth. "You have to trust that everything is going to work out. Isn't that what you've been telling me? And you were right, Bella. Our son no longer hates me."_

"_You exaggerate; 'hate' is too strong a word. I sincerely doubt that Robert ever hated you. 'Dislike' would be a better choice." _

_Bella sits up and turns to face him. She listens attentively as Edward recounts his entire conversation with Robert – verbatim._

"_I still don't know what happened to Robert in the past that caused his dependency on habit-forming substances. His mind has essentially blocked off that period in his life. But tonight I'm ashamed to admit that I've done what I vowed I wouldn't and listened to his thoughts." Edward pauses and glances at Bella looking for her reaction to his confession._

_Reassuringly, she touches his hand. "I'm glad that you did."_

"_I know now what has been troubling him. Robert is worried about his spouse. He's convinced himself that Kristen is withholding something significant from him. Fearing the worst and believing that she's slipping away, he's feeling powerless to make things right between them. He loves her very much."_

"_Oh, my poor, dear son! What do you suppose it could be?"_

"_I'm hoping that when you visit your mother tomorrow you might do a little investigating." _

"_You want me to spy on her?"_

"_You've been reading too many Nancy Drew books. 'Spy' is too strong a word, don't you think?" He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, wearing a boyish grin on his face. "Observe would be a better choice." _

_Bella rolls her eyes and playfully swats his arm. "I do hope it's nothing serious, Edward."_

"_So do I."_

"_Do you suppose Robert could go back on his promise? His intentions may have been sincere but if he's physically addicted …" Her voice trails off. _

"_Don't worry Bella; it's been taken care of. Butch is officially out of business. He just doesn't know it yet." He looks over at a patch of freshly dug dirt. _

"_Thank goodness!" Springing to her feet, she takes hold of his arm and pulls him to his feet. "Suddenly I'm feeling very thirsty. Let's hunt!"_

_He reaches down for his shirt and removes the bottle of iodine. "Now be a good girl and stick out your tongue …" _

A horn blaring startles her. Preoccupied with replaying the conversation she and Edward had had the previous night, among other things, she hadn't been paying attention and was driving well below the speed limit. Pressing her foot down on the gas pedal the Oldsmobile's engine sputters and coughs. A quick glance at the dashboard causes her to grimace. The little white line on the fuel gauge has dropped below 'E' indicating that the car quite simply has run out of gas. Since learning how to drive Bella has taken the car out often. She's discovered that racing up and down the near empty streets of Chicago during the early morning hours is not only exhilarating but also helps to pass the time and clear her head. Unfortunately it hadn't occurred to her that at some point she would need to refuel.

Glancing into the review mirror she catches sight of a driver yelling and flailing his arms in the air. Flooring his vehicle, the angry driver lifts his hand and flips her the bird while passing. Turning on her right signal she steers the wheel towards the curb and prays that the car will make it there. Arriving on fumes the engine sputters one last time before succumbing to the inevitable.

_Now what? _

Bella briefly considers leaving the car where it is and walking the rest of the way to the Masen house on foot whereby she could then call a service station. She quickly dismisses this idea for several reasons primarily because she is already running late. She quickly calculates that it would take her twice as long to get there even if she were to walk at a brisk human pace and also, this isn't exactly the best part of the city to leave Carlisle's treasured possession. It could be towed, vandalized or even worse – stolen.

Sighing heavily she takes notice of her surroundings. Nearest the sidewalk is a row of seemingly vacant buildings that at one time, no doubt, housed a bevy of essential shops in a thriving neighborhood, most of the windows are now broken or missing entirely. Something bright flashes and moves in one of the upper windows, catching her eye. Shielding her brow with her hand from the sun directly overhead, she looks up again only to find that whatever it was is no longer there. Dismissing it as merely the light reflecting off one of the glass panels she resumes her search. The only place that appears to still be in business is a bar called 'Jeremiah's Tavern' located on the corner but a red neon sign flickering on and off announces that it is presently 'CLOSED'.

Rolling down the window Bella shifts her position and listens for signs of life. One block over she hears two men talking loudly to each other while lifting and emptying the contents of metal cans into the back of a garbage truck. Their voices grow faint after they've dropped the empty cans and hop back on the truck, progressively working their way down the street. Casting a wider net, she detects voices coming from across the road and down a ways where there is a long stretch of open land.

_Maybe someone there can help me. _

Before opening the car door, Bella deliberately places her bare arm into the sunlight that is streaming through the windshield and onto the front seat. Thrilled by the prospect of walking outside in broad daylight without fear of being exposed, she shivers with anticipation. The luminous sheen of her pale skin is undetectable. Leaving her gloves and wide-brimmed hat on the back seat, she clutches her purse and ventures out. Uneasiness washes over her as she crosses the street. She has the distinct feeling that someone is watching her. Quickly she spins around and scans the area only to find that nobody is there. Shaking her head, she quickens her gait.

_You're being paranoid Bella …_ She tells herself.

The voices grow increasingly louder. Set back a hundred feet from the road is a baseball field and there's a game already in progress_. _Bella follows the high metal fence that separates the spectators from the players over to the wooden bleachers where small clusters of teenage girls sit starry eyed, watching the boys play out on the field. In waves they alternate between animated chatting, exaggerated peels of laughter and deep appreciative sighs depending on whoever has the ball at any given moment. Although they feign indifference the boys are not oblivious to the attention they've garnered. In actuality, they're working hard to achieve it. In the age-old ritual of attracting a mate they strut around like roosters spreading their wings and puffing their feathers by periodically flexing their muscular arms and hard, lean bodies.

Bella comes to a halt at the high end of the bleachers, scanning the small assembly in the hope of determining whom best to approach. Closest to where she's standing a girl lets out a piercing squeal that sends shivers down her back.

"Oh my God Trish! Did you and Kurt really … you know … do _it_? Just look at him out there! He is _so _fine! I would definitely … you know … with him. Wait – don't look! I think he's turning his head our way."

"Trust me Sandra, don't waste your time fantasizing about Kurt. He is a legend in his own mind," a well-developed peroxide blonde replies, sounding thoroughly bored.

The blonde's eyes cast on a boy sitting on the bench, willing him to turn around. Her wish is granted when he turns and meets her gaze. Sending him a message, she slowly runs her tongue over her bottom lip and undoes another button on her sheer blouse so as to emphasize her ample cleavage. Lifting his cap, he gives her a nod and shifts his position on the bench, turning his attention back to the game.

Bella casts a furtive glance in their direction. With light brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, Bella recognizes one of the girls as being Sandra, Seagull's daughter, who she had seen briefly in the church vestibule when she and Edward attended Robert and Kristen's wedding. Edward had previously given her the run-down of what had transpired that night in the parking lot when he dragged Seagull's son, Eddie, out of the Aragon Ballroom with the intention of driving him home. How they had found Sandra in the backseat of a car, willing to trade her virtue to a total stranger in exchange for entry into the club. Edward is convinced that their old friend's children are lashing out their anger and frustration towards their parent's and their crumbling marriage by purposely getting into all sorts of trouble. Both she and Edward agree that Seagull's children are being held like hostages in a war that they don't fully understand and being forced to witness the decimation and destruction of their family. It saddens both her and Edward immensely but given their own limitations, they are at a loss as to what they can actually do to make a difference.

"If I could do it over again, I'd pick Brian to be my first."

"Why him, Trish? He's not nearly as dreamy as Kurt."

"Let's just say that Brian is … well, he's gifted and leave it at that."

Giggling ensues.

Having heard enough, Bella interrupts them. "Sex by itself is empty and meaningless, a basic biological function. It's doubtful you'll ever find love by giving yourselves away so freely."

In synchrony both girls' heads turn in her direction. Trish appears to be sizing up the competition while Sandra scrunches her face in confusion. Bella wonders whether her reaction is because of what she said or if Sandra had recognized her.

"Who the hell asked you?" Trish says indignantly.

Bella continues. "Most boys will take what you're offering without giving it a second thought. They can't help themselves; it's in their genetic make-up and in the heat of the moment they'll tell you just about anything you want to hear, but after they're done … well Trish, I think you know what happens next, don't you?"

Trish is now openly glaring at her. "I just haven't found the right one yet."

Bella shakes her head. "It doesn't work that way."

"How would you know?" Sandra asks.

Bella lifts her left hand, showcasing her gold wedding band. "Because first, I captured his heart and then the rest of him followed."

"You're married?" Sandra says in awe, staring at her ring as if it was the Holy Grail. "How can that be? You don't look to be much older than we are." _How do I capture his heart? _

Trish laughs. "Oh I think I understand now. He _had_ to marry you. My hats off to you sister, that is a brilliant plan."

"You're mistaken, Henry married me because he loves me and I him and after he returns when this war is over, we'll never be apart again," Bella says softly, almost reverently.

Buoyed by her words, Sandra looks out on the field and finding Kurt whispers, "How romantic …" Trish rolls her eyes and tells herself that Bella just got lucky.

Sandra takes a closer look at Bella. "You look sort of familiar. Have we met before?"

Wanting Sandra to be the one to make the connection first, Bella shrugs, "I don't see how as I'm relatively new to the area and I don't get out much. I'm sorry for interrupting and interjecting my own personal opinion into what was most assuredly supposed to be a private conversation." She points towards the road. "Let's start over. I'm Adele and I was on my way to visit someone who lives in one of those gorgeous old mansions uptown when my car ran out of gas. I was hoping you might know where the nearest gas station is."

"Sorry, no. Neither one of us drives yet," Trish says curtly.

"But my brother would probably know seeing as he's just gotten his driver's permit," Sandra adds. "By the way, I'm Sandra and this here is Trish."

"Pleasure, I'm sure." The sides of Trish's mouth quickly rise into a fake smile.

Sandra's face brightens like a light bulb turned on. "Hey, I live in that area. Who were you going to see? I might know them."

"Mrs. Swan," Bella answers. "She lives over on Maple Street in the …"

" … Masen mansion," Sandra finishes her sentence for her. "Yeah, my folks are pretty tight with that family. Mrs. Swan and her sister, Mrs. Davis, have lived there for as long as I can remember. They're really nice. Mrs. Davis makes the best chocolate chip cookies. Did you know that Mrs. Swan raised her grandchildren after they became orphans? It's a really sad story. The father died of influenza before they were born and their mother vanished right after they were born. And when I say _right after_, I mean it literally, no one saw her leave the hospital and no one knows what _really_ happened to her. Everyone assumes that she's dead since they never found her body but there've been lots of theories …" she stops when seeing Bella's face blanch.

"Sorry," she quickly says. "My mom says I have a tendency to talk first and think later, just like my dad. I think I remember you now Adele. Weren't you at Robert Masen's wedding with a really, _really_ handsome guy."

"Yes, my husband, Henry and I were there." Bella smiles at Sandra's apt description of Edward. "It was a lovely wedding."

"Since when did the dweeb start driving?" Trish asks, surprised that Sandra hadn't told her of this latest development.

"Last week," Sandra says snidely. "Can you believe my dad caved? It's supposed to be a reward for him not having fucked up for an entire two weeks. He even brought Eddie downtown to get the permit." She makes a face and points to a small motorbike parked behind the bleachers. "He can't take the car out by himself until he passes the road test but he doesn't need a license to drive that thing. Mom says it's a 'death-trap' and hasn't talked to my dad since he gave Eddie permission to use it."

Bella asks, "Where is your brother now?"

"He's over there." She points to the far end of the bench. "He's the short, scrawny, pathetic looking one." Sandra nudges Trish and the two break out into peals of laughter, again.

No sooner had Sandra identified her brother than he cups his hands to his mouth and starts yelling at the top of his lungs, "Christ Hal! How the hell did you miss the ball? Do you need a pair of fucking glasses?"

"Shut the hell up Eddie," another boy who is sitting on the opposite end of the bench leans over and shouts. By his tone, it's clear he's annoyed by his teammate's outburst. "Let him concentrate."

Holding up the palms of his hands, Eddie wears a mischievous grin and mocks, "What? Are you Hal's momma now, Larry? Ooh … are you gonna whip out your dick and let him suck it?"

Springing to his feet as if he'd just been stung by an angry nest of hornets, Larry races over to Eddie and roughly shoves him off of the bench. Before Eddie can manage to sit up, Larry straddles his stomach and starts pummeling his body with his fists.

"Take that back you son-of-a-whore," Larry spits between clenched teeth. "We all know whose dick your mother sucks!"

"Fuck you, asshole!" Eddie sneers.

Fueled by anger he grabs hold of Larry's upper arms and flips him over onto his back, an incredible feat considering that Larry is much bigger than he is, and starts landing some serious blows of his own.

Trish slowly shakes her head. "I think there is something seriously wrong with your brother, Sandra."

"He was dropped on his head when he was a baby," Sandra says sarcastically.

"Isn't anybody going to stop them?" Bella says. Her voice becoming alarmed as the aroma of fresh blood permeates the air. "Someone is going to get seriously hurt."

_Seriously … it smells delicious. _

As if on cue, two of the boys sitting on the bench hop off and quickly pry the brawlers apart. Eddie wipes the cut over his bleeding brow with the back of his hand and brushes the dirt off his pants. Without looking back, he storms off.

"The game's not over yet Gulisano!" one of the boys who pulled him off of Larry hollers.

"Come on Eddie," his accomplice adds, "You know that you want to kiss and make-up with Larry!"

Eddie raises his right fist high in the air and prominently extends his middle finger. "Fuckers," he mutters under his breath.

He continues walking straight past his sister and Trish but when noticing the drop-dead, gorgeous blonde standing near them he does an about-face and retraces his steps. Reaching inside his shirt pocket, he pulls out his pack of smokes.

"Shit!" he exclaims when finding that his last cigarette is broken in half.

A flock of loud, squawking birds fly overhead and at that precise moment Eddie looks up. Something warm and wet trickles down his cheek. His hand flies up to his face.

"Shit, shit … OH SHIT!"

The irony that its Seagull's son who has just been pelted with bird crap is not lost on Bella. She laughs long and hard and is joined by Sandra and Trish and everyone else who saw it.

"You wouldn't happen to have a handkerchief handy, would you, Miss?" He looks at Bella expectantly.

Bella opens her purse and produces a crisp, white handkerchief, much to the surprise of Trish and Sandra, and offers it to Eddie.

"My mother never left the house without one," she offers as explanation.

"I'm much obliged," Eddie says politely and starts to wipe off the bird droppings from his face.

Finding her brother's newfound manners particularly amusing, Sandra struggles not to laugh again but fails miserably. Of course, this triggers a similar response from Trish. Eddie casts his sister and her friend a look of complete annoyance.

"What the hell is wrong with you two hyenas?"

Whereupon both girls double over, holding their sides.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he says, folding the handkerchief as neatly as he can. "My name is Edward Gulisano but all of my friends, call me Eddie."

Sandra says snidely, "What friends? I demand names!"

"Weren't you supposed to be home an hour ago?" Eddie snaps at her, his eyes narrowing.

"Weren't you as well?" Sandra dishes back. "This is my new friend, Adele. She was just telling us that her car ran out of gas and she'd appreciate it if someone could give her directions to the nearest gas station."

A smile replaces Eddie's frown when addressing Bella. "That would be Ralph's Pit Stop over on Plank Street and I'd be happy to take you there myself."

"That isn't necessary," Bella replies. "If you could just tell me how to get there I'm sure I can manage."

"You are forgetting Adele, that I am in your debt," he says, moving to give her handkerchief back to her. "Please don't make me shirk my responsibility to you."

Bella adamantly shakes her head, refusing to take the handkerchief as it has blood mixed with bird crap all over it. "No, you keep it. I insist."

"I won't take no for an answer," he tucks the soiled handkerchief in his back pocket. "I'll have you there and back in no time at all."

"Well, if you insist," she says, relieved that he wasn't referring to her handkerchief after all.

Eddie flashes his sister a look of triumph and guides Bella over to his motorbike. Straddling the bike first, he then takes Bella's hand and assists her in mounting. Sandra and Trish are smiling profusely wearing their 'I know something you don't know' grins plastered on their faces.

"Hold on tight, baby," Eddie says, pressing his chin to his shoulder.

With her arms wrapped around his midriff, the wind whips at her face as Eddie presses the accelerator and the motorbike surges forward. It's very loud and the ride is choppy as the wheels race over uneven ground towards the street. Bella quickly closes her mouth to stop her chattering teeth and longs for the steadiness of the Oldsmobile, that is, until they reach the pavement and then it's smooth sailing. The bike slows infinitesimally when approaching the stop sign. Eddie steers to the right and turns left at the next intersection. The engine screams as they soar down the six blocks, narrowly missing every red light by a fraction of a second. Had Bella been mortal, she most certainly would have been terrified but instead she finds it exhilarating, the next best thing to running full speed through the forest. All too soon they reach their destination and Eddie parks the bike next to a one-story white cinderblock building, it's two over-sized garage doors hang open.

_I have to have one of these things!_

Bella dismounts before Eddie does; her radiant face beaming with excitement. "That was fun."

"Ah … a girl after my own heart," Eddie's expression mirrors hers.

Had it been only Eddie who strolled through the garage doors, it's unlikely that the man wearing greasy coveralls and lying beneath the car would have paid him any mind but the sound of heels clicking over the cement floor did the trick. Sliding out from under the car rollers his back had been resting on, he is pleasantly surprised to find an extraordinary beauty standing over him. He, himself, is entirely ordinary.

"Well hello_ darling_," the man salaciously says, emphasizing his last word.

Grinning from ear-to-ear he mentally starts to undress her. He purposefully ignores the slight, willowy boy standing behind her.

"What can I do for you pretty miss?"

Not willing to let this guy overshadow him, Eddie boldly steps in between them. "I want a three-gallon gas can filled … pronto, bud," he demands.

Sitting up, the man shifts his attention over to the boy. He takes a long hard look at Eddie and starts wiping his dirty fingers on an old rag, his brow furrowing. A thin smile spreads as recognition sets in. He prides himself on having the memory of an elephant and the uncanny ability to recall people's names and faces. And try as he might, he hasn't been able to forget the details of that night, especially that crazy fucker who had lifted him high in the air as if he weighed no more than a feather and threatened to kill him. From the fierceness of his expression, he had no doubt that he would have followed through. Although the light had been muted in the parking lot, he's certain that this is the same kid who'd been there with that freak. He runs his thumb over the smooth skin of his finger where his wedding band had once been. Lipstick on his shirt collar had been the catalyst for the rip-roaring fight he later had with his wife that resulted in her packing her bags and running home to her mother. _This kid's cock-teasing whore of a sister is to blame._

He averts his gaze back to Bella and replies, "No can do, _bud_."

"Why the hell not?" Eddie whines, his eyes fixed on an old metal container on top of a shelf against the far wall.

The man nonchalantly shrugs, going back to ogling Bella with his eyes. "I have none to spare."

"Come on man, give me a break," Eddie pleads, switching tactics. "Listen man, her car ran out of gas."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" Quickly rising to his feet, the man tucks the rag into his back pocket.

Eddie's face quickly reddens, his anger rising. It looks as if he's a volcano about ready to explode. Deciding to step in before matters get completely out of hand and Eddie does something foolish, Bella flashes the man a flirtatious smile.

"Please …" she says sweetly, glancing at the name sewn above his breast pocket. "… Please Gerald, I'm late in visiting with a sick friend and I would be ever so grateful if …"

"Say no more, pretty lady." Gerald raises his hand.

Opening a side cabinet he removes one of several brand new gas cans and heads outside. Bella, with Eddie close behind, follows Gerald over to the pump. They watch as he fills the container to the brim with gasoline.

"That'll be fifty-seven cents for the gas and another three dollars for the can retainer fee. Return it within an hour and I'll refund your money. Oh … and one other thing, I'll be needing your card." Gerald holds out his hand and shifts impatiently on his feet.

"Card?" Bella repeats. Opening her purse she removes four crisp one-dollar bills and hands them to Gerald.

Eddie leans towards her and lowering his voice says, "I think he means your gas ration card. You do have one, don't you?"

"Of course," Bella says uncertainly.

She doesn't recall Carlisle or Edward mentioning anything about needing a ration card to purchase fuel. Then again she hadn't mentioned she'd been using the car often either. On the off chance that it will simply materialize, she takes another look inside her purse before nervously shifting her eyes over to Eddie.

Gerald sighs heavily. "I wouldn't have asked sweetheart except that I'm supposed to account for every gallon that I sell. It's my patriotic duty as a citizen." The expression on his face darkens. "Of course, I might be willing to let you settle this, another way, darling," he adds and then winks. "Ditch this little boy, sugar and let me show you what it's like to be with a real man."

Eddie, showing remarkable restraint, keeps his anger in check. Deciding that he needs to get Adele as far away from this jerk as fast as possible, he again steps between them and removes his thin wallet from his back pocket.

"Here use mine."

Gerald hesitates before taking it. He looks at the front of the card and his eyes widen in surprise. His expression then turns to disbelief when he flips it over. The embossed stamp on the card reads, 'State of Illinois, Cook County, District Attorney's Office'.

"Any relation to that asshole running for mayor whose ugly mug is plastered on billboards all over town?" Gerald asks, not masking his disdain for the man. _Pinko, liberal, commie lover! It figures he'd allow family members to use taxpayer money for personal gain. _

"So what if I am?" Eddie glares at him and challenges.

Bella suppresses her need to laugh at the absurdity of her present situation. It reminds her of a western movie she once saw with Edward where two cowboys were standing at opposite ends of a long, dusty road, facing each other with guns loaded and held to their sides, ready to draw and shoot if the other so much as blinked.

Gerald marks the card and flicks it high in the air. Eddie misses but Bella's razor-sharp reflexes do not. Both men stare at her in amazement and scratch their heads, believing that she had merely been lucky. Bella gives it back to Eddie and he grabs hold of the gas can, steering her towards the motorbike.

Eddie remarks over his shoulder, "I'll be back in half an hour."

Gerald nods. "I'll be here." He starts walking back to the garage. _And so will the cops. _

"I'll pay you back," Bella says, watching Eddie secure the gas can to the small metal rack behind the seat.

"Don't worry about it," Eddie protests, shaking his head. "I swiped it from my old man's wallet this morning. One of the perks of his cushy government job is that he's allotted ten times more rations than the average Joe. I'll slip it back later and he'll be none the wiser."

Swinging his leg over the side of the bike, he then offers his hand to Bella. She wraps her arms securely around his waist and finds herself grinning from ear to ear with excitement when the engine starts to roar. From inside the garage, Gerald looks up and flips Eddie the bird.

"Can you believe the nerve of that asshole?" Eddie remarks. Returning the gesture, he peels out onto the road.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to rub people the wrong way?" she yells above the engine. Although she can't see his face, his quivering chest tells her that he already knows.

**.**

**.**

"There … you're good to go Adele." Eddie says, securing the gas cap on the Oldsmobile.

He frowns when he spots Trish and her sidekick leaving the field with the latest objects of their misguided affection in tow and heading their way. Brian's arm is hung low, resting on Trish's shapely bottom and Sandra, walking two steps behind Kurt, is following him like a puppy dog. He chuckles to himself. _Bitches in heat … _

"I can't thank you enough Eddie," Bella says, following the path of his vision. "You can keep the refund for all your trouble."

"I couldn't possible keep your money," his head darts back towards hers. He hesitates indecisively before blurting, "I was kind of hoping that … that maybe … you know … maybe we could go catch a bite to eat or something."

His eyes quickly dart over and he visibly cringes when seeing her wince. Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply and exhales.

"What the hell am I thinking? A beautiful girl like you would never go out with a guy like me."

_I am so stupid! I should have realized this was his motivation in helping me. How do I let him down gently without hurting his feelings? _

"You've been very kind to me Eddie and under different circumstances …" she pauses. "I'm very flattered but …" She winces when hearing just how awful it sounds. _Shit! _"I'm really sorry."

"That's okay, Adele," he mutters, his eyes downcast. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It's not like it's the first time a girl has turned me down." Picking up the gas can, he starts walking back to his motorbike with his shoulders drooped forward.

"Hey, wait!" Bella cries.

She can't let him leave like this. It's not his fault and he was so kind and helpful.

"Yeah, what?" he spins around. "Have you changed your mind?" There's a shred of hope is in his voice.

"I can't go out with you because I have a husband – I'm married, Eddie. Henry is in the Army. I don't want you to think it's because of who you are or because I don't like you, because I do. I'd like for us to be friends."

Eddie hops on top of his bike and starts the engine, revving it repeatedly while considering her offer. Several emotions flitter across his face all at once; 'disappointment' that she's currently taken, 'relief' that it has nothing to do with him personally, 'acceptance' in understanding what she's offering him, and finally 'hope' for the possibly of their being more someday. _After all, who knows what the future holds? _A small smile spreads across his face.

"Okay … friends."

Bella watches the motorbike grow smaller as it moves down the road and gradually disappears altogether. She opens the driver's side door and is about to slide in when she catches Sandra running towards her from across the street leaving a startled Trish and the boys behind. And from the looks on their faces, they are none too pleased.

"Sandra!" Trish hollers. "Where the hell do you think you are going?"

"Go on without me," Sandra yells and turning around, doesn't look back.

"Hi Adele," she says, breathless when reaching the car. "Are you still going to the Masen's?"

"Yes I am." It strikes Bella that Sandra is wearing the same hopeful expression that her brother had worn earlier.

"Would you mind bringing me home? I live right around the corner from their house," Sandra asks.

"Of course, climb in," Bella replies.

Again her eye catches something bright flash from inside one of the windows, up high in one of the vacant buildings. The same feeling of uneasiness that she had earlier, like someone is watching her, returns. Were it not for Sandra, she would likely have investigated further.

"Can I ask you something?" Bella says, breaking the ice after the first mile. "Why didn't you go with your friends?"

"If you promise not to say anything to Trish I'll tell you," Sandra starts nervously twirling her finger around her ponytail.

"Cross my heart." Bella promises but omits the remainder of the commonly spoken phrase.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier …" she says, glancing over at Bella. "Maybe I've been going about things the wrong way. Trish always made it seem like letting boys touch you and do other stuff was no big deal but it hasn't gotten her any closer to what she wants – mainly, a steady guy who loves her and only her. I think that's why I've never been able to go through with it. I want more than that and you've shown me that there is another way."

Bella gives the young girl a reassuring smile. "There are some things you don't get to do over again. Having sex for the first time is one of them. Someday – when you are older and are with someone you love, who loves you back, it will be one of the most beautiful experiences you will ever have. I promise."

Sandra blushes. "This is so weird. We hardly know each other and yet I'm able to talk to you about things that I've never been able to discuss with anyone else before, including Trish and especially my mom."

"I'm glad," Bella replies, turning the car onto Maple Street. "Which house is yours?"

"The one with the shirtless gardener pruning the hedge bushes," she replies and scowls upon seeing the curtains in the large front window sway when Bella pulls into the driveway.

"I'll be at the Masen house every Monday, Thursday and Friday afternoon for the next several weeks," Bella says.

Bella then reaches inside her purse for a pen and opens the glove compartment, searching for something to write on. Under the vehicle registration Bella finds Carlisle's gas ration card. _Isn't that just wonderful! _Unsuccessful in finding even a scrap of paper, she slams the compartment door shut.

"I wanted to give you my phone number."

"Here, write on this." Sandra sticks out her left hand, palm up.

In black ink, Bella scrolls 'CA9-5555' on Sandra's skin. "Call me anytime day or night. I mean it. The same goes for your brother."

"Gee, thanks Adele."

Giving her new friend a quick hug, Sandra opens the door and purposefully walks across the meticulously manicured lawn, through a flowerbed and past the irate gardener who stops what he's doing and starts yelling something to her in his native language. With a smile plastered on her face, she quietly slips inside the house.

**.**

**.**

It has been a little over twenty-three years since Bella last stood on this doorstep. Lifting her hand, she takes a deep steadying breath and rings the doorbell. She can hear the chimes echo inside the large foyer. Bella smiles as her thoughts go back to that time period in her human life. They had been young and deeply in love. Believing that their fathers were plotting to permanently keep them apart, they had impulsively eloped while Edward's parents, Senior and Elizabeth were away on a trip to New York City. Bella closes her eyes, lost in her memory. The night she and Edward had exchanged vows in an illicit speakeasy run by notorious gangsters in the shadiest part of Chicago had been the happiest night of her life. That is, until the following night when he brought her to his home and they had consummated their marriage.

_Edward exited and opened the door for her. They walked purposefully towards the house, their hands joined. The quiet of the night surrounded them; their footsteps, it's only sound. The outside lights were on and they illuminated the walkway up to the main entrance. Edward nervously dropped his keys several times attempting to open the large entry doors before steadying himself and successfully unlocking them. Before Bella could move one-step forward Edward scooped her up and carried her over the threshold setting her down onto the marble floor in the dimly lit foyer. Holding her against his chest his lips devoured hers as he deepened their kiss; his tongue darted into her mouth. Her arms wrapped securely around his neck, her mouth and tongue matched his stroke for stroke. His hand lowered touching the sides of her breasts. Bella felt the evidence of his desire for her growing._

"Hello, you must be Adele. I'm Mrs. Browning," A voice at the door draws Bella out of her memories.

A petite middle-aged woman dressed in a housekeeper's uniform warmly greets her. Her dark hair, peppered with wisps of gray, is pulled back into a tight bun. She's wringing her damp hands on an apron that is tied around her waist.

"We've been expecting you. Won't you please come inside?"

"Hello," Bella replies shyly, feeling somewhat embarrassed after being abruptly pulled away from her erotic thoughts. "I'm sorry that I'm late. I had a little trouble with my car."

"Nothing serious I hope," Mrs. Browning inquires. "I'm so thankful that my Cedric can fix anything mechanical."

"No, nothing serious," Bella replies politely.

"Ruth!" A woman's panicked voice drifts down from up the staircase. "Can you please come here?"

Bella recognizes the woman's voice as being that of her mother, Renee.

"I'm sorry Adele but would you excuse me for a minute or two?" Mrs. Browning asks, somewhat flustered. "Mrs. Davis left early this morning to help her daughter, Tillie. All three of her children have the chicken pox. Mrs. Swan has needed my assistance ever since. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but I'm no spring chicken anymore and running up and down those stairs every half hour plus trying to cook and clean … well, you get the picture. Please stay here and I'll tell Mrs. Swan you've arrived."

Bella observes Mrs. Browning as she ascends the staircase before taking in the full grandeur of the mansion. Comparing it to memory, she notes with satisfaction that very little has changed. The large, circular mahogany table remains the foyer's centerpiece and there's an expensive decorative vase filled with fresh cut flowers sitting on top. Valuable and priceless paintings that Elizabeth had purchased still hang on the plastered white walls. Directly across from the large wooden entry doors, a spectacular staircase spreads in both directions like open arms and rises three stories high to meet a stained-glass oval dome. Sunlight streaming through the dome casts a bevy of colors over the marble floor below. She closes her eyes once more as the past blends with the present.

_"There is no one here but us tonight, my love. We have the entire house to ourselves." Edward rubs the tip of his nose against hers. "I love you so very much Bella. I want to show you how much."_

_Bella moans in response and caresses his face bringing his mouth back to hers. "I need you." She whispers._

_"Unless you would like me to make love to you right here on this cold hard floor, let's go upstairs," he exclaims, excited and stirred by her words._

Her eyes dart open when her highly developed, vampire hearing detects the sound of a young woman's voice emanating from down the long hallway and inside what once was Senior's office. Even though the woman is speaking in hushed tones, Bella has little difficulty hearing what is being said and surmises by the lack of a response, that she is talking on the telephone.

"No, I haven't purchased my bus ticket yet."

_It's Kristen! _

"No I'm not stalling. I'll be in New York City by the first of August."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm going downtown this afternoon and I promise that I'll buy it then."

"No, I haven't said anything to Robert but I will soon."

"You know why … listen, I can't talk about this now. I have to go."

"I love you too ... bye!"

The wooden doors suddenly swing open and in storms Elena. Just one look tells Bella that she is riled up about something. Two seconds later Kat follows her, appearing to be equally as upset. Neither one seems to notice Bella who is standing off to the side, next to the staircase, nor Renee and Mrs. Browning who are slowly descending.

"I don't appreciate the inquisition Kat," Elena says firmly. "I shouldn't have to account for my every waking minute to you. Furthermore, it is none of your business who I was with."

"Will you please shut the fuck up!" Kat yells in frustration, squaring her shoulders. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours but you disappeared from the office and without telling me how I could get a hold of you. On the chance that you'd be home I asked Gwen in the typing pool to drive me over because you need to hear this!"

Kristen, having heard the commotion, steps out of Senior's office and is walking towards its source.

Elena takes a deep breath and exhales. "Alright Kat, you said it was urgent that you find me, so here I am. You found me. Now say what you've come to say and then please go. I need to lie down. My head is pounding."

All eyes fall on Kat as she speaks, choosing her words carefully. "I received a phone call earlier from Skip. He had some bad news. Its Robert … he's in serious trouble and was taken away … in handcuffs! Skip didn't have any details yet but said it wouldn't hurt to say some prayers."

If Bella's heart hadn't already stopped beating, this surely would have done the trick. _What could possibly have gone wrong since she had last spoken to Edward? _She quickly scans the circular room. Kristen gasps, her face turning as white as the walls behind her. She reaches for anything to hold onto to steady her legs that are about to give out on her. Elena's mouth hangs open, dumbfounded; she's unable to formulate a coherent response. Mrs. Browning suddenly reaches for Renee who has stumbled on the steps and misses, tumbling down the last flight of stairs. Bella flies up the staircase at an inhuman speed and safely catches her mother in her arms. _Mom!_

* * *

**A/N: I think I've probably left you with more questions than answers. What's in Robert past? Is someone watching Bella? Has Eddie has broken his weeks-long streak of not fucking up? Who the hell was Kristen talking to on the phone? And Elena … who had she been with?**

**I'd be interested to hear your thoughts, theories and comments if you'd like to share them.**


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